


Her Property (His Property Saga)

by neganslucilletblr



Series: His Property [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Angst, BDSM, Blowjobs, Degradation, Dom!Dean Winchester, Dom!OFC, Dom/sub, Edging, F/M, Fingering, Fluff, Kinky sex, OOC, Oral Sex, PTSD, Past Sexual Assault, Protective Dean Winchester, Rough Sex, Smut, Spanking, Sub!Sam Winchester, Whipping, ooc sam winchester, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26373523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neganslucilletblr/pseuds/neganslucilletblr
Summary: Things finally seem to be going well. Family life is good and John and Lilly are getting married. But their wedding brings ghosts from the past back home and Y/N is left to deal with the consequences. Sam seems to have changed for the better but is it enough to finally forgive him? Or will she let her need for revenge consume her?
Relationships: Dean Winchester x You, Dean Winchester/You, John Winchester x OFC, Sam Winchester x OFC, Sam Winchester x you
Series: His Property [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1484564
Comments: 14
Kudos: 39





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final part of the His Property Saga <3 - Follow me on Tumblr - @negans-lucille-tblr
> 
> Chapter Tags: sub!Sam, hints of smut, mentions of welts, aftercare, talk of sexual assault, talk of therapy

_**Sam’s POV** _

Sam kept his head hung low, palms flat on his thighs as he knelt on the rich mahogany floor. Her red heels came just into view in front of him but he didn’t dare look up, knowing he’d not been given permission to. 

“Look at me,” her voice cut through the quiet as she barked her command. Sam lifted his hazel gaze, dragging his eyes up her long tanned legs. He took in a sharp breath as his eyes landed on the black lace bodysuit that hugged her body perfectly, every curve and dip accentuated by the intricate lace detail that made her skin look even more tanned. Her long red hair hung over her shoulders, curled at the ends and her lipstick matched perfectly like always. She smirked down at him, her blue eyes twinkling at the sight of him knelt before her like that. She was a petite thing; he was easily twice her size and given his build and obsession with keeping fit, he could throw her across the room with one hand if he so wanted to. 

But he didn’t. Because he was hers. Utterly and completely hers, waiting on bated breath for her next command and eager to please her. 

His eyes bored into hers like she had asked as he waited. She smirked, one hand on the hip she’d popped out to the side. 

“Good boy,” she purred, “I love the way you look at me when you’re so needy,” she cooed, reaching down and gripping his chin. Sam’s whimper was barely audible but she caught it. She didn’t miss a trick. Her bottom lip scraped through her pearly white teeth. “Are you going to behave tonight? Do exactly what I tell you?” she asked, her blue eyes flickering between his. Sam licked his lips wet and mewled as he gave an eager nod. “Tell me, let me hear you say it,” she demanded.

“Yes, Mistress. I’ll do everything you say,” he agreed.

“Good boy.” 

  
  


-

  
  


The warm water was soothing on Sam’s welts as he lay his head back and drew a deep breath. He felt his hand being dragged through the water as slender fingers played with his.

“You okay, baby? You’re quiet,” she noted. Sam drew another breath.

“Yeah,” he sighed out. 

“Anything you want to discuss? Anything you didn’t like about the session?” she pried, sitting up and turning her head so she could see his face.

“No, baby, that was perfect,” he reassured her with a soft smile, reaching up to push her hair over her shoulder to keep it out of the soapy water. 

“So what’s on your mind, then?” she questioned, turning her small frame around inside their giant bathtub to kneel between his legs. She looked at him expectantly. Sam sighed and sat up a little. “I’m sorry do you want to wait until aftercare is over?” she asked quickly, her eyes widening. Sam laughed softly and shook his head.

“It’s fine,” he reassured her. He grabbed her hands under the water and started to play with them. “Dad’s invited me back to the States for his wedding,” he explained. 

  
  


“Well that’s great news, isn’t it?” she checked.

“I don’t know. I moved to Aus to keep my distance from Dean and Y/N because I hurt them and I don’t want to cause any more upset for them,” he sighed. The heaviness still weighed on his heart, even years later. _Especially_ years later. Now he had been to many therapy sessions and had learned to control his obsessions healthily through his lifestyle, he could recognise just how badly he’d hurt Y/N all those years ago. 

“Sam, listen to me. I’ve known you three years now. You’ve grown and changed so much since then, you’re not that person anymore. And I’m sure if you give them a chance to see that for themselves, then maybe they’ll let you back into their lives,” she smiled softly. 

  
  


Sam drew a deep breath and nodded. “You think so?” 

“I know so, baby,” she smirked. Sam bit his bottom lip. 

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding. He knew his father wanted him there and besides everything else, it was important for business. “I’m not sure if Dean’s gonna be shocked or say I told you so when he finds out about us,” he smirked. 

She chuckled, “from what you’ve told me about him, he’s known about you for years.” Sam laughed, blushing slightly. 

“I guess it is kinda obvious when you look back.” She leaned forward and kissed him softly. “I guess we’re going to the States then,” he smiled against her lips. 

“Wait, _we_?” she asked, a grin on her face.

“Yeah, of course. I want everyone to meet you. Besides I couldn’t do this without you, Diane.”


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: hints of domination, fluff, mentions of sex, teasing, seduction, gagging, face slapping, dirty talking, hints of breeding kink, angst

“Good morning, Daddy,” you smiled, stepping into the kitchen to see Dean dusted with flour, a large mixing bowl underarm as he whisked at the batter inside.

“Good morning, you,” Dean smirked.

“Morning Momma!” A little voice across the kitchen called.

“Morning baby, did you sleep well?” you checked. Little green eyes looked up from his colouring at the dining table as he gave you a toothy grin.

“Yes, Daddy’s making waffles!” he exclaimed excitedly. You giggled as he kicked his legs back and forth, his feet nowhere near touching the floor from his chair. 

“Oh is he now?” you smirked as you stepped closer to Dean and kissed his lips, reaching up to dust some powder from his nose. “Does Mommy get some waffles?” you asked. Dean stared at you for a moment before a small smirk graced his lips.

“Only if she has them with fruit,” he compromised. You bit your bottom lip and nodded.

“Fruit with waffles is my favourite! How about you, Bobs?” you asked, stepping away from Dean and heading over to the table. You sat down next to him, noticing he was drawing a picture of a church and two people getting married. 

“Hm, I think I want maple syrup and chocolate chips,” he grinned cheekily. 

“Wow, that’s a lot of sugar,” you told him with a chuckle. “I think I want the same, what do you say, Daddy?” you pressed with a wicked smirk. You noticed Dean’s grip on the whisk tighten for a moment.

“I say you both get what you’re given and you’re going to thank me for it, or no one is getting waffles again,” he warned playfully. 

“Fruit it is then,” you sighed. “What are you drawing, Bobby?” you asked.

  
  


“This is Granddad and this is Granny Lily and they’re getting married and I’m gonna draw me and you and Daddy and the baby,” he explained, grabbing a red crayon.

“The baby?” you prompted, frowning. Looking over at Dean he offered you a shrug.

“Yes, my baby brother,” he smiled. Your eyebrows raised.

“Well it’s news to me that you’re getting a baby brother,” you laughed. 

“Oh please can I have one, Momma?” he begged. You laughed again and ran your fingers through the soft, short brunette hair on the top of his head.

“Maybe one day, kid, but not at the moment.” 

  
  


The rest of breakfast was pleasant and as usual saw Bobby running off before you and Dean had finished so he could go and play. 

“So, a baby brother,” you commented, raising your eyebrows. Dean smirked and scoffed. 

“He’s lonely,” he shrugged. 

“He’s not lonely,” you argued, “he has us two and he loves Sally and your Dad.”

“His parents, his nanny and his grandfather, yeah the kid’s got loads of friends,” Dean replied sarcastically, a smirk on his face. 

“What, so you want another one then, is that what you’re saying?” you pressed. Dean licked his lips, his stare on you intense for a moment or two. 

“Finish your breakfast, princess,” he commanded. You blushed a little and did as you were told, picking up a piece of strawberry with your fingers. “Sally’s gonna have Bobby from earlier tonight,” Dean informed you as you ate.

“Why?” you asked before looking up to see the way he was watching you. Heat rose in your cheeks. “Oh,” you whispered. “Okay,” you agreed, biting your bottom lip. 

  
  


Dean rose from his chair and gathered the plates as between your legs started to grow uncomfortable with the anticipation of the evening and night ahead. Most nights, once Bobby was in bed and Sally had taken over looking out for him, you and Dean would go down to your playroom for the evening, but Dean had been swamped with work and so that hadn’t happened for over a week now and you were both dying for a chance to get into that room. There was only so much vanilla sex you could handle. 

  
  


Ever since Bobby had come along you’d tried your best to find the balance between being Dean’s wife, his submissive and a mother to your child. Gone were the days of kneeling at his feet in the kitchen whilst he made you breakfast, being at his every beck and call. You had to get your kicks in otherways now. Letting Dean dictate your breakfast, letting him boss you around in a way that didn’t seem old fashioned or misogynistic to Bobby. The last thing you wanted was to scar the poor kid. You’d had to start being clever about it. Sally had been a lifesaver from day one, mainly taking over at night times so you had a break, but occasionally she’d have him in the days too if he wasn’t at school so you and Dean could run your businesses. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss the way things were with Dean before Bobby came along, but you wouldn’t change anything for the world. You loved the family you had now. Everything was finally perfect. 

  
  


-

  
  


“Thanks again, Sally,” you smiled. “Okay, Bobs, you gotta be good now for Aunty Sally, why don’t you tell her about the day we had?” you asked. Bobby grinned and nodded his head as he tipped his head back to look up at you. “Have a good night, I’ll see you tomorrow,” you told him, kissing his forehead.

“Night Momma,” he smiled. “Aunty Sally! Daddy made us waffles for breakfast and then we went to the park and we had a picnic,” Bobby excitedly told her as they walked hand in hand towards the stairs. You smiled warmly at the sight and turned around to head towards Dean’s study. 

  
  


In the couple of hours previous whilst Dean was making dinner and feeding Bobby, you’d showered and prepared for the night ahead before taking over so he could jump on a business meeting via Skype in his office. You knocked softly on the door and listened out for any sign he was on the phone or working before stepping inside. He was typing on his laptop, looking up when you closed the door behind him.

“Sally has taken over,” you informed him, walking further into the room.

“Great, I’ve got a few more emails to send and then I’m all yours,” he told you mindlessly as he returned his eyes to the screen. You bit your lip and stood directly in front of his desk.

  
  


“Or,” you countered, reaching behind you and pulling on the zip of your dress as it grew slack around your frame, you shrugged the material off and let it drop to your feet to reveal the teal lingerie set you’d put on after your shower. It was one Dean hadn’t seen before. His eyes flickered up from the screen for a second and back to his work before he did a double take. “You could finish work now and come and enjoy this,” you smirked. 

  
  


Dean’s bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he considered your proposal. 

“That’s funny, because it _sounds_ like you’re begging but it sure as hell doesn’t look like it,” he noted, his eyes back on his screen. You drew a breath and rolled your eyes when you knew he wasn’t looking. Kicking your dress across the floor and out of your way you slowly lowered to your knees and got into the correct position. 

“Please, daddy?” you asked sweetly. 

“No, you’ll wait,” he instructed, typing on his laptop again. You sighed and waited, fiddling with your fingers in your lap impatiently. 

“The longer you fuss the longer I’ll take,” he spoke up without looking at you. You placed your hands flat on your thighs and huffed. 

  
  


It felt like hours had passed when Dean finally closed his laptop and turned his chair to stand up. 

“Just wondering,” he spoke up, slowly removing his suit jacket. “Did I give you permission to strip?” he asked, a small frown on his face as the wetness grew between your legs.

“No, daddy,” you replied timidly, “I took some initiative,” you smirked, a little more cockily. Dean scoffed as he slowly loosened and undid his tie, pulling it through the collar. He kept the silk in his hands as he approached you, standing to tower over you. 

“Initiative, huh?” he prompted, glaring down at you. “Mouth open,” he instructed and you quickly opened your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out. He started to stuff it full with the maroon tie until you couldn’t speak. 

“Did I give you permission to tease me?” he checked, rolling his sleeves up neatly and methodically so they rested just above his elbows. You shook your head. 

  
  


Dean’s hand drew back and before you could register what was happening his open palm had struck your cheek. He gripped your chin and forced you to look at him as you whimpered. 

“It might have been a week or so before I could punish you sweetheart, but don’t think for one second that I’ve forgotten every time you’ve disobeyed me, pushed my buttons, teased me and been a brat.” He let your chin go as you whimpered. He crouched down in front of you, eyes level with yours. “And you’re not going to like your punishment, baby girl,” he smirked. Your eyes widened as he chuckled. “And I’ve been thinking,” he added, his eyes scanning over your face. “I do want another one,” he told you, “I guess it’s time to breed you again.”

  
  


-

  
  


John was the one to disrupt breakfast the next morning; eggs and bacon this time. Bobby jumped out of his chair and ran into John’s arms. 

“Hey little man,” he laughed. “How are you?” he checked. Bobby was eager to tell John all about the picture he’d drawn of the wedding and how his baby brother would be there. John instantly looked between the two of you with raised eyebrows.

“No no… nope…” you told him immediately, “not pregnant. Not planning on getting pregnant,” you reassured him. Dean smirked as he shovelled more bacon into his mouth but he didn’t comment. You both knew the whole breeding talk that went too far last night was just fantasy. You were on birth control and in no position to have another child. At least, you assumed that was the case. 

  
  


“Well, maybe one day then, kid,” John told Bobby, ruffling his hair. “Listen, buddy, I need to talk to your Mommy and Daddy about something important, why don’t you play in your room for a bit?” he asked. Bobby reluctantly agreed as he ran into his playroom next door and you could hear him starting to loudly play with his action figures. 

“Everything okay, Dad?” Dean pressed, wiping his mouth with his napkin. John sighed and grabbed himself a mug, pouring some coffee.

“Listen, I want complete transparency here,” he told you both. “As you know the wedding is only a couple of months away now and all the planning is going on…” he sighed and looked down into his mug. “I’ve invited your brother home to be around for the remainder of the plans and to attend the wedding,” John explained. 

  
  


You swallowed hard, your heartbeat increasing. Even after all this time, Sam still made you feel uneasy. He’d been in Australia for years, keeping out of your way which had suited you fine. But now he was gonna be back here, you were going to have to see him. 

“Well he might always say no,” Dean offered, more of a reassurance to you than anything else. He looked at you carefully, concern on his face. You offered him your best reassuring smile, not sure how believable it was.

“I’m afraid he’s already accepted the invitation. He gets here in three days’ time.”


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: angst, fluff, smut, bratty!reader, teasing, flirting, punishment, spanking, spitting, degradation, choking, hair pulling, p in v, fingering, squirting, aftercare

“Morning you,” Dean grumbled, looking around the kitchen hesitantly.

“Hey,” you muttered, barely looking up from pouring the cream into your travel mug of coffee. 

“Bobby’s not up yet?” he asked, approaching you slowly.

“No,” you sighed, mixing your drink and dropping the teaspoon into the sink. 

“How come you’re up then?” His green eyes glanced over you once and he raised his eyebrows. “Off to work, huh?” he pressed once he’d finally realised you were already dressed in formal clothes and heels, your hair and makeup done.

“Yeah, you don’t mind, do you?” you checked, sipping your coffee, “it’s just Geoffrey wanted to go over some menu changes and he said he can make me some tasters,” you explained. 

“No, of course not, I think Dad is taking Bobby for a few hours today anyway, before-” Dean cut himself short.

“Perfect,” you forced a smile. 

“Baby girl…” he sighed, stepping in front of you. “Are you okay?” he checked. 

“Yeah, De, I’m fine,” you lied, brushing him off. 

You turned around so he couldn’t see the forehead crease you apparently had when you lied, searching the fruit bowl for an apple to eat on your way to the restaurant. 

“Sweetheart,” he prompted, his hand on your hip as he encouraged you to turn back around. “Talk to me,” he ordered softly. 

“What do you want me to say, Dean? I’m going to work, I’ve already told you,” you shrugged, taking a bite out of your apple. Dean stayed quiet for a moment as he observed your face.

“And this has nothing to do with what day it is?” 

“A Wednesday?” you asked, feigning ignorance. His green eyes bore into yours for the longest moment, almost making you crack, but you took another bite out of your apple and waited for him to say his piece. 

“You know it’s not just a Wednesday,” he told you, eyebrows raised. You licked the apple juice from your lips, swallowing what was in your mouth. 

“I’m fine,” you lied again. 

The next time you reached up to take a mouthful of apple, Dean had grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand away. 

“Are you sure, because you’ve not called me _Daddy_ once this morning,” he reminded you.

“What?” you pressed, scoffing. 

“It’s routine…I say _morning you,_ and you say _morning Daddy,”_ he smirked a little. 

“Bobby’s not here,” you defended weakly. Dean hooked a finger under your chin so you were forced to look him directly in the eyes. 

“We were saying it long before Bobby,” he whispered. You bit your bottom lip slightly. You understood he was worried and he had every right to be but you weren’t ready to talk about it. 

You made your eyes a little wider and pursed your lips slightly. “Morning Daddy,” you purred seductively, your eyes dropping to his mouth. 

“There, happy? I’ve got to go,” you told him, kissing his lips quickly before pushing past him. Dean sighed and turned around, watching you leave the kitchen. 

“So this has nothing to do with Sam arriving today?” he pressed, clearly tired of beating around the bush. 

“Nope,” you replied, popping the ‘P’ as you grabbed your briefcase. “Have a good day, baby, say morning to Bobby for me,” you smiled your best smile and kissed him again, heading straight for the door before he could say anything else. 

-

Work was slow and boring. You hadn’t lied to Dean when you told him Geoffrey wanted you to sample new items for the menu, but what you hadn’t considered when you made the 4am decision to work all day was that he had Wednesdays off. You’d busied yourself with trying to seem important; walking around the restaurant and checking customers were happy and then found yourself clicking your pen repeatedly and seeing if you could click it any faster. Once the noise drove you near enough crazy you started clicking your tongue, thinking about changes you could make around the place. Maybe a new colour scheme was in order. Or maybe a refurbishment. Nothing had changed in the 5 years since Dean had bought the place and done it up for you but that very reason had made you reluctant to make any changes. 

Every time you walked through the doors you remembered seeing the golden globe in the centre, remembered reading the words engraved into the wood surrounding it. You remembered walking up to the veranda and seeing Dean standing there. You thought of the ultimatum you’d given him that day and the look on his face in the ten seconds it took for him to make his decision. His decision being you. You thought about the intensive chat afterwards about your relationship and how it had to change for it to work. You remembered the sparks that shot through your entire body at the way he kissed you. This restaurant was full of memories for you and Dean, you didn’t want to change a thing no matter how dated it became to everyone else. 

A knock at your door disturbed you from your thoughts and you called at them to come in. 

“Dean,” you announced, a little surprised to see him. 

“Hey you,” he smirked as he swanned into the office and kicked back in the chair in front of your desk. 

“Where’s Bobby?” 

“With Dad for a few hours, they’re going fishing apparently,” he explained. 

“Your father has taken a five year old fishing?” you asked skeptically. Dean laughed and shrugged.

“He wasn’t the best father, he was always busy. I think he’s trying to make up for it with Bobby but he hasn’t really caught up with the modern world yet,” Dean laughed.

“You’re not kidding,” you scoffed. 

“You look busy. Fancy a break from all that really busy important work you’re doing?” Dean asked, a smirk on his lips and sarcasm dripping off his tongue. The man knew you too well. He knew you were throwing yourself into work to avoid talking to him. He wasn’t stupid. 

“It is pretty important, actually,” you argued, “thinking of changing the decor.” You pursed your lips and waited for a reaction but you didn’t get one and you knew he wasn’t falling for your teasing. His face remained neutral as he looked at you before a smirk broke out over his plump lips. 

“Sounds real busy,” he nodded in agreement. 

“Yep,” you sighed. Dean looked like he was about to start talking again. No doubt about _what day it was_ and you just didn’t have the energy. If coming to the restaurant to avoid him didn’t work, you had one more play up your sleeve. Dean was a simple man once you knew him. He might’ve been a big, tough dominant who liked control but like most men, it didn’t take much to distract him. 

You rose to your feet and walked around your desk, stopping once you were standing at his feet and dropped to your knees on the soft carpet. His green eyes followed your every movement but his face remained expressionless. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you looked up at him through your lashes and reached for the buttons on your shirt. 

“I guess I could take some time off, if you have something in mind for us to do…” you purred, undoing the first then second button of your blouse so the beginnings of your pale pink lacy bralette was showing. Dean still didn’t respond but you didn’t let it dissuade you as you played with the open neckline of your shirt a little. “I am super stressed after all that hard work… need to blow off some steam,” you smirked. You unbuttoned two more buttons, bra now completely on show to him and you moved your hands to smooth them up his legs and over his thick meaty thighs. 

Dean caught both your wrists before you could get too close to his crotch and leaned down over you. 

“You’re getting a little too big for your boots, sweetheart,” he warned. “I think you’re forgetting who is in charge around here.”

“Well that would be me, now wouldn’t it? This is _my_ restaurant,” you teased, pushing him further. Dean’s grip on your wrists tightened and he harshly pushed them away so they dropped to your lap. He rose to his feet and towered over you, making you feel a tenth of his size. 

“I’m not afraid to punish you right here, have you screaming for the whole building to hear how much of a slut you are,” he growled. You bit your lip and kept quiet, staring up at him but not backing down. “Or maybe the better punishment would be to not touch you at all,” he pondered. He stepped away from you and before you knew it he was heading for the door.

“No, no, Dean, wait!” you called out desperately, climbing to your feet quickly to follow him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry,” you pleaded. “I’ll be good, I promise,” you whined, not wanting him to leave. In an instant Dean turned around, his hand wrapping around your throat as he pinned you against the wall. You whimpered when your back hit the cold, smooth surface and looked into the greens of his eyes that had darkened with lust. 

“The point is, Princess, you should always _be_ good,” he snapped. You nodded quickly, agreeing with him. 

“Yes daddy, I’m sorry,” you choked out, “you’re in charge, I’m sorry for teasing you.” 

“What was that?” he prompted, squeezing a little tighter.

“You’re in charge, Daddy,” you repeated. 

“That’s right, you seem to be forgetting that a lot recently.” 

He let go of your throat and you gasped for air, panting heavily as you stared at him and he at you. He kissed you hard, lips pressing against yours and his tongue forced its way into your mouth. You responded eagerly, all teeth and tongue that left you breathless and giddy when he finally pulled back. He gripped your blouse and forced it open the rest of the way, buttons popping off in different directions. He stepped away and raked his eyes over you.

“Strip,” he commanded. You eagerly obliged, shrugging your blouse from your shoulders, reaching back to unclasp your bra and drop it to the floor. You unzipped your skirt and stepped out of it quickly, kicking it away before pushing your panties down your legs. All the while Dean was slow and particular about unbuttoning his plaid shirt and removing it, folding it and placing it on the back of his armchair. His t-shirt was next as he revealed his toned torso. He started unbuckling his belt slowly and pulled it through the loops quickly, the crack of leather filling the quiet. You flinched, whimpering at the very sound and bit down on your bottom lip. 

“Show, on the desk,” he commanded, nodding to it. You quickly made your way to the piece of furniture in question and cleared a space for you to lean over, legs spread, hands clasped behind your back just above your ass as you presented yourself for him. You listened to the sound of his zipper and moaned softly, trying to glance back over your shoulder to steal a look at him. But you couldn’t see enough without moving, and you’d already annoyed Dean enough. 

“Spread that ass for me,” he ordered. You immediately did as you were told and waited on baited breath for what you were craving most. Hearing Dean spit and feeling the wet trickle down your ass to your entrance made you moan and buck your hips back, daring to wiggle your ass and tempt him further. A short but hard spank landed on your ass. “Behave,” he growled, making you whimper. 

Feeling the swell of his cock nudge against your entrance had your body sighing in relief as it finally got what it craved. He filled you beautifully, driving his hips forward until he was home, the tip nestled against your cervix and his hips flush to your ass. You whimpered, moving away slightly, hoping he’d withdraw just a little but Dean kept a firm grip on your hip and held you in place.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it?” he grunted, his other hand reaching up to grip your shoulder as he pulled your body off of the table to hold against his. “This is what you begged for right?” His breath clung hot and wet to your cheek as he whispered in your ear. “Then fucking take it,” he groaned, snapping his hips forward harder and thanks to the position he’d put you in, somehow he got that little bit deeper. Your legs shook at the impact, the feeling of him attempting to break you from the inside out made you clench around him to keep him there and push him away all at once. 

Dean’s hand snaked from your shoulder to your throat as he started to choke you, fucking you slow and calculated. Each thrust in was hard, purposefully driven to hit all the right spots, no doubt. Your head tipped back to rest on his shoulder as he pounded his body into yours, the edge of the desk cutting into the tops of your thighs, sure to leave bruises, but the pain was only encouraging your climax to the surface quicker. 

“What do you say?” he prompted, breath uneven as he hissed into your neck. You reached up, clinging to his wrist as he tightened his grip around your neck and your eyes started to roll. You could only just about think of the words you needed to say, let alone get them out of your mouth. “Huh? What do you say, slut?” he growled. You whimpered, a pathetic excuse of a thank you bleeding through your lips in a breathless gasp. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? You get a cock in you and you’re suddenly just some dumb whore built for nothing but taking cock, huh?” he chortled. Your legs gave way but Dean’s body was pinning you against the desk hard enough to keep you in position. 

He reached for one leg, gripping your knee and encouraging you to rest it on the desktop as he pushed your body flat to the smooth wood and started hitting new spots with the change of position. 

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” you begged, mewling desperately. You couldn’t find any other words, your mind scrambled as all you could think about was the feeling of Dean inside you, taking what he wanted with abandon. 

“What do you want, slut?” Dean barked, grabbing a fistful of hair, “tell me,” he prompted. You pushed up on your hands, arching your back slightly to ease the tug on your hair that gave you that perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. 

“Please Daddy I want…” you swallowed hard, struggling to keep the orgasm at bay, “I want to cum, please,” you begged. 

“Brats don’t get to cum… are you a brat?” he asked. You shook your head immediately.

“No Daddy, I’m your good girl, please,” you pleaded with a breathy whine. 

“Good girls do as they’re told, they keep their hands to themselves,” he snapped. 

“Yes Daddy, I’ll be good I promise,” you agreed. 

Dean pulled out of you, ignoring your very loud protests as you scrambled behind to feel for him. His cock was replaced by fingers as he curled them to nudge at your g-spot and began fucking them into you, the sound of your arousal around them filling the room. 

“You wanted to cum so badly so _cum_ ,” he instructed. You whimpered, your fingers desperately clawing at nothing but smooth wood. You wanted his cock inside you again so badly but there was something so different about the orgasms he could coax from you with his fingers. You closed your legs tight as your orgasm hit and you could feel it trickling down your legs as Dean moaned at the very sight. “Dirty little girl making a mess all over her desk,” he tutted, pulling his fingers out and spanking your ass, leaving behind some of your slick on the skin. 

He was inside you again within seconds; this time fast and hard and unrelenting, taking what was his without question. The sound of his skin meeting yours was so loud you wouldn’t be surprised if your guests heard it. Dean’s large hand encased the back of your head as he pushed your face down into the table and groaned loudly. 

“Such a good pussy,” he growled, gripping your hip for support as he buried himself as deep as he could get and stilled. When he finally pulled out he spanked your ass once and there was silence as you tried to regain enough composure to move. You felt a warm washcloth between your legs, not even realising Dean had had time to go into the bathroom and grab one. You mumbled happily, no coherent words coming to you. 

When you finally blinked your eyes open Dean was rounding the desk, standing in front of your face. He crouched down slightly to get more level with your face and reached up to brush some of the hair out of your eyes. 

“Did I break you baby?” he smirked.

“Yes,” you grumbled sleepily. Dean chuckled and leaned forward to kiss your forehead lovingly. 

“C’mon, let’s get dressed,” he told you softly. He helped you sit up and grabbed you some water from the cooler, sitting next to you on top of the desk. 

“That was good,” you smiled tiredly. Dean smirked and kissed you sweetly. “I thought you were really leaving,” you admitted with a blush, “I didn’t mean to push that hard, I’m sorry.” Dean reached across for your hand and gripped it, bringing it to his mouth so he could kiss the back of it. 

“I’d never leave you, Y/N, no matter how much of a brat you’re being,” he joked. “If you must know I was going to lock the door, but it worked in my favour,” he smirked. 

“Oh,” you blushed harder and chuckled. 

“Hey, why don’t we see Mandy tomorrow?” Dean suggested casually. You sighed; it was unavoidable he’d want to talk about it and you could already hear Mandy’s voice in your head telling you to deal with your emotions and not bury them. She’d tell you you’d be undoing all your hard work if you didn’t. Although you didn’t see her regularly anymore, she was always on call for a chat if you ever needed her. You supposed Sam returning did warrant a trip to your therapist. You wanted it to go as smoothly and painlessly as possible. And as always, Dean just wanted you safe. 

“Okay, sure,” you agreed with a soft smile. 

“That’s my girl,” he beamed, kissing you again. “It’s going to be fine, Y/N, you’ve got me and I’ll never let anyone hurt you again, you know that.” 


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: angst, awkwardness, tension, hints of sub!Sam, mentions of safeword being ignored

_**Dean’s POV** _

“We’re here, buddy,” Dean announced, climbing out of the impala and rounding the back to get Bobby out of his car seat. “Now you’re gonna have to be on your best behaviour for Granddad okay? He’s got guests,” he explained carefully. Bobby knew about Sam, it was unavoidable with passing conversations and Dean didn’t want to pretend that his own brother didn’t exist, but Bobby obviously had no idea what Sam had done or why he was estranged. All Bobby knew was he lived far away and couldn’t visit. More than anything, Dean wanted his family together, he wanted Bobby to know Sam, he wanted Sam to be a part of their lives - just not the Sam that he’d become six years ago. He wanted his kid brother back. The one that he could tease, the one he looked out for and raised whilst John wasn’t around. That’s the Sammy he missed. 

Dean held Bobby’s hand as they climbed the stone steps to the door and Dean let himself in. Bobby immediately ran through the hallway towards the kitchen. 

“Granddad! Where are you?” he called excitedly. 

“Bobs, wait!” Dean sighed as he dropped Bobby’s bag by the door. 

“Oh,” Bobby’s little voice sounded and Dean could see ahead that he’d come to a stop.

“Hello there little man.” An Australian accent lingered in the air and Dean broke into a jog to catch up to Bobby. He placed a large hand on Bobby’s shoulder as he looked into the kitchen and saw the redhead first. She smiled brightly at him but Dean’s attention was immediately drawn to his little brother, wide hazel eyes staring back at him as he swallowed hard. 

“Dean, hi,” he cleared his throat and got up from his place at the table. 

“Hi, urm… Bobby, dude, why don’t you go and see if Granddad is in the play room?” Dean asked, his voice a little shaky with nerves as he looked down at his son. 

“Are you Uncle Sammy?” Bobby asked, ignoring Dean’s instruction and tipping his head back to look at the taller man towering over him. A smile graced Sam’s lips as he nodded.

“Yeah, I am, and you must be Bobby, right? I’ve heard a lot about you,” Sam beamed, bending down at the knees so he was more Bobby’s height. The small boy instantly clung to Dean’s leg and hid himself a little. 

“Bobby, I won’t tell you again,” Dean warned him. Bobby was gone in a flash, his little footsteps retreating back down the hall as his voice echoed out for John. Sam looked up at Dean before rising back to full height. 

“He looks like you,” he commented, smiling a little. 

“Yeah, poor kid,” Dean laughed awkwardly. 

He scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat. 

“How are you?” Sam asked politely. 

“Fine.” Dean couldn’t even look him in the eye. “You?” he added, just to be polite. 

“I’m really well,” Sam nodded. 

“Good,” Dean agreed. 

“Oh, Dean, this is my girlfriend, Diane,” Sam explained, referring to the redhead beside him. She stepped forward and extended her hand. 

“Hi, lovely to meet you,” she beamed. 

“Hi Diane,” Dean replied awkwardly, noticing how strong her grip was. 

“Sam’s told me so much about you, I think we’d get along great,” she told him. Dean’s eyebrows raised a little but he didn’t respond, not really sure what he could say to that. 

“Do you want coffee?” Sam asked quickly, moving to the coffee pot. 

“No, I’m fine, I can’t stay,” Dean excused. Sam stopped and looked at Diane. She stared at him, eyebrows raised for a moment and Sam’s hazel eyes awkwardly flickered to Dean before he spoke up. 

“Please may I have another cup?” he mumbled out to Diane. She smirked and placed her hands on her hips. 

“We’ve had enough, I think we should move onto water,” she told him. Dean’s eyebrows only rose higher in shock. Was he reading too much into this? Or had Sam just actually asked for his girlfriend’s permission to drink coffee like a…

“Of course,” Sam agreed, putting the coffee pot back and grabbing two glasses instead. Diane’s blue eyes flickered over to Dean as she gave him a sweet but knowing smile and Dean scoffed a laugh. The irony was hilarious. 

“How is Y/N?” Sam asked cautiously. Dean licked his lips, the amusement of his discovery vanishing in an instant, anger bubbling in his stomach that he dared to even say her name. 

“She’s very well…look, I’ve got to go,” Dean lied, pointing behind him. 

“Will we see you at the dinner tomorrow night?” Diane asked hopefully. 

“We are… undecided,” he replied carefully. He glanced at Sam once more before offering them both an awkward smile and turning on his heels to leave. He was barely at the front door when he felt a small hand on his arm.

“Excuse me, Dean?” Dean turned around to see Diane smiling sweetly at him. “Listen,” she sighed, glancing back over her shoulder towards the kitchen. “This is none of my business but I just wanted to let you know that Sam’s worked really hard the last three years to change and become a better person, and he’s done really well.” 

“Good for Sam,” Dean grunted, annoyed she would push into their business like that. He didn’t even know her. 

“I just think you should give him a chance to prove it.” 

“Listen, sweetheart, I know you’re trying to help but you don’t know what’s going on here,” Dean told her sternly. 

“Actually, I do. I know everything. Sam’s told me. He was really nervous about coming here, he didn’t want to upset anyone and he didn’t want to cause anymore hurt. All that anger he had and loss of control, that’s managed now, I’ve got that under control,” she argued. 

“Oh you do, huh?” Dean asked, the disbelief clear in his voice. 

“I do. I think we both know the wonders a bit of discipline can do to someone,” she noted, crossing her arms. Dean’s suspicions were correct and he smirked a little. _This_ woman? She was half the size of him. For a second Dean couldn’t help but wonder what that looked like. 

“Please just give him a chance to prove it,” she sighed. Dean looked back at her and cleared his throat. 

“We don’t owe Sam anything,” he snapped, turning around and leaving before she could respond. 

-

_**Your POV** _

You’d managed to avoid a five mile radius around John’s house for a week now. Your session with Mandy had been good and she’d reminded you of calming techniques to use should you feel yourself getting a panic attack but it didn’t matter how prepared she and Dean tried to make you, you weren’t ready to face him. Even after all this time. And why should you be? Why should you have to sit there, be civil and courteous to the man that did _that_ to you? It wasn’t fair. But as Dean had tried to delicately point out, his father was getting married again after over thirty years of being single, after never thinking he’d be in a relationship that wasn’t strictly sexual ever again. He was making the most of this and he wanted his whole family there for it. You couldn’t necessarily blame John for inviting Sam home but it didn’t make it any easier on you. 

Everytime John would call to invite you to dinner, he’d let you know how much Sam had changed but you didn’t want to hear it. Changed or not you were still going to see the man that had hurt you. You were still going to see those same hazel eyes that you saw the night he attacked you. You’d tried to come up with some excuse to stay at home, claiming Sally couldn’t look after Bobby but Dean saw through that lie straight away. You could tell he was trying his best not to push you or make you do something you really didn’t want to do but at the same time you saw how he yearned for his family to be back together. You hated you were partially the reason it wasn’t. 

Dean coming through the door snapped you out of your thoughts as you watched him approach looking tired. 

“Everything okay?” you checked.

“Fine, sweetheart,” Dean mumbled, opening the fridge door. 

“Was… he there?” Dean sighed as the door clicked closed, turning around with a bottle of water in his grasp. “You wanna talk about it?” you added when the look on his face gave you your answer.

“Do _you_?” he replied. 

You cleared your throat and drew a deep breath. “We probably should.” 

Dean leaned against the island and hung his head between his shoulders for a moment. “So get this,” he spoke up. “Sam’s girlfriend is also his domme.” The news doesn’t come to a shock to you for some reason and when you thought about it, you realised how much sense it actually made. 

You laughed at the irony and for a split second you hoped she didn’t stop when he used his safe word but you knew it was wrong of you to ever wish that on anyone. 

“Well he was awful at dominating so maybe he’s better at submitting,” you shrugged. Dean scoffed and nodded his head. “What’s she like?” you asked curiously. 

“She’s tiny and a redhead and she seems sweet and innocent but clearly not,” he explained, screwing the cap off of his water. He sighed. “She told me that he’s changed. Said they’ve got his issues under control.”

“Do you believe her?” Dean didn’t reply for a moment as he drank some water and licked his lips. 

“I kinda do, he seemed… less uptight, more… _comfortable,”_ Dean shrugged. You bit your bottom lip in thought. “She asked us to give him a chance to prove himself.”

“Why should we?” you retorted bitterly. 

“I said that,” Dean nodded. 

It was silent for several moments as you both sat with your thoughts about Sam and if he really had changed or not. 

“So the dinner tomorrow night, I spoke to Dad and he agreed we can sit opposite ends, so we don’t have to look at them,” Dean finally said. You drew a deep breath, your stomach knotting at the very thought. “You don’t have to, baby girl,” he reassured you. 

“No, I do…” you told him. “I wanna be there for John and Lilly and I want to prove to him and myself that he doesn’t control me anymore,” you added adamantly. You’d thought about it long enough before coming to this conclusion. 

“Are you sure?” Dean asked cautiously. You nodded your head. Something about the idea of Sam being a submissive made him seem less threatening in your mind. 

“I’m sure,” you agreed with a gentle smile. “I’ve got you, right?” 

“Of course baby,” Dean agreed, stepping up to you. 

“So I’ll be fine.” 


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: angst, tension, anxiety, nerves, confrontation, fluff, smut, p in v, orgasms

Your stomach was in knots as you pulled up outside the manor. You thought back to the first time you pulled up outside it, when Dean had brought you home from your first date and the excitement and nerves you felt then. But there was no excitement this time, only pure dread sitting in the bottom of your stomach like a dead weight as you thought about being in the same room as Sam for all that time. You had zero appetite, wondering how you were going to last a three course meal. Dean squeezed your hand as if to silently reassure you he was still there. He knew you too well, he knew you were internally panicking. You offered him a weak smile.

“Hey baby girl,” he whispered, leaning in closer to you, “I won’t leave your side all night, got that?” he asked sternly whilst keeping his tone soft. You nodded, knowing that your wellbeing was always at the forefront of Dean’s mind. 

As you made your way up the stone steps you were greeted by waiters with trays of champagne. John and Lilly had really gone all out for their late engagement dinner. You took a glass eagerly and practically downed the entire contents in less than a minute, needing something to take the edge off. Usually Dean was strict about how much you were allowed to drink, but he didn’t say anything when you replaced your empty glass with a full one as another waiter passed. You tried your best to fake smiles and make conversation with the other guests, most of them from the business but your mind was on Sam and his whereabouts. It didn’t take long for you to spot him; the pure bright red of his girlfriend’s hair was unmissable as they made their way around guests together, eagerly talking about Australia and how the business has coped with expanding out there. 

You tried to keep focused on your conversations, letting Dean do most of the talking, but every time Sam’s voice carried across the room, seemingly three times louder than anyone else’s, your stomach would tighten that little more. Your mouth was dry as you grabbed a third drink and laughed when everyone else did around your little circle. Dean’s arm was around your waist - not possessively like usual but lovingly - his fingertips brushing through the thin material of your dress now and then to comfort you. Once dinner was announced you were able to breathe just that little better, thankful Sam hadn’t tried to approach you at all. 

“You okay?” Dean checked as you slowly made your way into the dining room. You nodded, unable to speak and saw that John had kept his word, placing Sam and his girlfriend a little further down the table next to who you now called “Big Bobby” and Cas while you and Dean were seated at the head with him and Lilly. 

Luckily, Dean was sitting beside and not opposite you and he spent what time he could during the meal with his hand on your leg, just that extra reassurance you needed. Lilly was good at keeping you occupied, talking to you about wedding plans and discussing ideas she’d had for decorations. When you and Dean got married you’d been obsessed with every tiny detail, so you appreciated her fretting over the fact the confetti needed to match the colour scheme and tried to offer her tips that you’d picked up whilst planning your own. 

You’d surprisingly managed to eat a lot more than you’d realised, partially thanks to Lilly’s distraction and partially thanks to Dean’s silent reassurance and luckily, between eating dinner and the long table separating you from Sam, you barely heard him talking at all and were able to forget he was even there for brief moments. The food was as gorgeous as always and John’s speech about Lilly and their engagement was surprisingly romantic. People were invited to stay for drinks after the meal but you and Dean had already decided you’d take that as your cue to leave. When standing up from the table you realised you’d allowed yourself to get fairly tipsy. You’d had a drink with every course at dinner, alongside the three you had during the reception so you were hardly surprised, particularly considering your tolerance was low thanks to Dean’s strict alcohol rules. 

Dean’s grip around your waist was helping you stay steady on your feet and as you made your rounds to say goodbye to the guests, using your son as your excuse for leaving so soon, you realised Sam was approaching you. All the other guests had for some reason vanished, moved on to another part of the house and you and Dean had been left alone with Sam and Diane. 

“Hi,” Sam said cautiously as he approached but luckily, kept somewhat of a distance. 

“Sam,” Dean inhaled deeply. Diane had her arm hooked into Sam’s and she nudged him slightly when he didn’t say anything else. Sam cleared his throat.

“I just wanted… to say…” he gulped and looked down to his feet. “I wanted to say sorry. It doesn’t make up for anything and you don’t have to accept my apology-” 

“Good,” you replied bitterly, not sure where you’d found the courage to respond. 

Sam looked up at you and swallowed. 

“I’m Diane,” his girlfriend smiled at you, her australian accent thick. “Nice to meet you.” You ignored her. Not that you wanted to be rude but you weren’t in the mood for pleasantries. 

“Y/N, I should never _ever_ have done what I did. I had no respect for you or your relationship with Dean or just BDSM in general. I lost control and I just want you to know I really am truly sorry, if there was anything I could do to make it up to you, I’d do it.” You glared at him. You wanted an apology but hearing him say it still made your skin crawl. “I know it doesn’t change anything, I know that…” he continued. 

“In the three years I’ve known Sam I’ve trained him and I’ve fallen in love with him. I can promise you he’s a different person now,” Diane spoke up. You scoffed, _how dare she._ You didn’t want to make a scene at yet another event thanks to Sam so you just bit your tongue. 

“I think we need to go,” Dean told you all, gripping your waist tighter. “C’mon, sweetheart.” 

You glared at Sam and Diane the entire time Dean led you out but as soon as the cool night air hit you and you were out of their sight, you felt a little better. You and Dean walked to his car in silence and he opened your door for you and helped you in before climbing into the driving seat and starting the Impala up. He glanced across at you and opened his mouth to speak but didn’t say anything, instead pulling off as he started to make his way home. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, after looking across at you for the fifth time. 

“I’m fine,” you half lied. Maybe the alcohol was numbing you a little but you weren’t feeling half as shitty as you thought you would. Especially considering Sam had the nerve to talk to you. “It was nice to have an apology even if I don’t want to forgive him.” 

Dean reached across for your thigh and squeezed it slightly. “You don’t have to.” You let the silence grow again as he continued to drive home, his thumb brushing back and forth along the exposed skin of your thigh. You looked across at him, really taking in just how gorgeous he looked in his suit. Your mind had been too preoccupied before to really appreciate it.

“Pull over,” you told him. 

Dean frowned a little, slowing the car. “Are you okay?” 

“Just pull over,” you repeated. Dean did as he was told, the car coming to a stop on the side of the deserted highway. He turned his head to look at you, opening his mouth to speak but you silenced him by kissing him passionately, unbuckling your seat belt and scrambling across the car to straddle his lap. Dean laughed a little into the kiss and reached up to push some of the hair out of your face.

“You okay?” he smirked, his green eyes scanning your face. You smirked in return and reached between you as you eagerly tugged on his belt, undoing it and fumbling to undo his slacks next. 

“Do I look okay?” you purred.

“Baby, you’ve been drinking a lot, you’re pretty drunk,” he protested. Your hand reached inside his boxers anyway, wrapping around his hardening length. You kissed him passionately again as you pumped him in your hand and tried to help him get fully aroused quicker. 

“So? You don’t have to be my dom you just have to fuck me.” Dean chuckled at your statement, his fingertips playing with the hem of your dress on your thighs. You bit your bottom lip and looked down at him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. “Please Daddy?” His hand smoothed up your back, fingers tangling in your hair.

“Thought I wasn’t your dom?” he growled against your lips. You gasped, his cock throbbing in your grasp as you pulled it completely free from his boxers. 

“Please please please,” you started to beg, barely above a whisper. 

Dean’s other hand gripped your dress and pulled it up over your ass, his fingers hooking into the crotch of your panties to pull them to one side. You lifted your hips and repositioned yourself slightly, lining him up with your slick centre. You gripped his shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself down onto him, mouth falling open as he filled you beautifully. 

“Fuck.” The ‘k’ clicks on your tongue, the rest of the word breathy, as you lower your hips as much as possible, sending him the deepest he could get. Dean gripped your hips and started to help you ride him, your moans and gasps echoing around the Impala. He lifted his hips to meet your thrusts, your fingers gripping the leather seat behind his head for something to anchor yourself to. Dean sat up straighter, wrapping both arms around you and as your back pressed against the steering wheel the horn blasted and you jumped, giggling loudly. 

Dean smirked at your reaction bending his head to lick and bite at your neck as you both continued to lift and drop your hips, grinding against each other in perfect sync. 

“Oh shit, I’m gonna cum,” you told him desperately, your fingers gliding through his hair and gripping at the roots painfully hard. Dean growled into your neck. 

“C’mon, cum for me,” he encouraged, bucking his hips up into you harder. Your eyes rolled, your whole body collapsing on top of him like a rag doll as you let him use you however he wanted, your climax so close to the surface you couldn’t even breathe. Dean grunted louder, his fingertips bruising the skin on your hips underneath your dress as your orgasm finally washed over you. Your face buried into the nook of Dean’s neck, all you could really do was whimper and moan, feeling him pump into you over and over again, your legs turning to jelly. 

Dean came moments later and you stayed huddled in his lap for several moments as he stroked your back and kissed your hairline. 

“He does seem different though,” you commented. 

“Huh?” Dean prompted, clearly confused. 

“Your brother, he does seem different.” 

“Baby, I’m still inside you,” Dean laughed in disbelief. You grumbled, feeling just how drunk you were as your brain buzzed with alcohol and the remnants of your orgasm. “Okay, let’s get your drunk ass to bed.” Dean slowly lifted you off of his lap and helped you back into your seat before putting himself away. He watched you for a second and smiled softly. “Well done tonight, baby, I’m so proud of you.”


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: angst, talk of sexual assault, awkwardness, talk of redemption, mentions of dom!dean, sub!reader, dom!OFC and sub!Sam, talk of BDSM

You watched as Dean slowly woke up, blinking his eyes open. The first place the green orbs landed was on you as a small smile graced his lips.

“Morning you,” he grumbled, his voice deeper than normal and still thick with sleep. You returned his smile.

“Morning Daddy,” you whispered. 

“How’s that head?” The smirk that spread over his lips was smug and you frowned slightly that he would find it so amusing. 

“Getting Sally to cover the morning was such a good decision.” You rolled onto your back and sighed heavily. Dean chuckled next to you and reached out to hold your thigh over the covers. 

“How come you’re awake?” he asked, looking across at you. 

You bit your bottom lip for a moment and turned your head to look at him.

“Couldn’t sleep, I was thinking about stuff,” you admitted. 

Dean slowly scanned your face for a moment. “Wanna talk about it?” 

You sighed again, “was I too harsh on him?” you asked, looking up at him to judge his initial reaction. 

“Sam?” Dean checked, scrubbing his hands over his face and rolled onto his side to look at you properly, “no, baby.”

“I keep going between feeling bad for him and hating him. I mean, he reached out, tried to apologise and he does seem like he’s changed, but then my head tells me that he hurt me, _really hurt me,_ he doesn’t deserve me feeling sorry for him.” Dean was quiet for a moment. “I want to give him another chance, for your sake and Bobby’s and hell even mine… I want our family to be whole, but I can’t get past this.” 

Dean reached up for your face and stroked his thumb over your cheek. “You don’t have to, no one is asking you to,” he reassured you. “I made my peace with Sam not being in our lives the day I made you that promise and I intend to keep it, Y/N. For as long as you want Sam gone, he’s gone.” 

“But he’s not gone, is he? He’s here and there’s no denying he’s different.” Dean squeezed your thigh for a moment and reached up to tuck some hair behind your ear. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, sweetheart.” You took a deep breath and thought about it. You wanted to give Sam a fair trial. You wanted to give him the chance to explain himself, to hear his side of the story and prove he can be trusted now and you were drunk the night before, so although your reaction was genuine, it could’ve been handled better. 

You wanted to forgive him, you wanted all of this pain to be behind you and you wanted to move forward, so you had to give Sam that chance, right? 

“I want to hear him out,” you told Dean your decision. 

Dean’s eyes widened a little and he stared at you for a few moments before he replied. “Are you sure?” 

You nodded and sat up. “Yeah, I want to hear his side of it.”

“Baby, you don’t have to, you don’t owe him anything,” Dean reassured you, sitting up too. 

“No, I want to,” you told him adamantly. 

“Do you want to talk to Mandy about it first?” 

“No, invite them over. We’ll have dinner, the four of us tonight,” you told him sternly. You weren’t used to making demands and Dean wasn’t used to taking them but he agreed nonetheless. 

-

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. Knowing what was coming that night was both a blessing and a curse. You had all day to worry about it, thinking up the worst possible situations despite knowing they wouldn’t come true, but it had also given you time to prepare. Both times Sam had spoken to you since the attack had been out of the blue, you were caught off guard that he was trying to talk to you. You had time to prepare what you wanted to say, what you would respond to the things he might say. You weren’t even sure what you wanted the outcome to be. You wanted this over with and you felt the only way to ever truly be done with it all is if Sam either died so you never had to worry about him again or if you truly forgave him once and for all. But you worried that even if you did forgive him, it would keep cropping up. 

All you could do was go with how you were feeling at the moment, forget about the future. And you knew you had to do this for you, not for Dean and not for anyone else, only you. Just like when you and Dean broke up all those years ago and you had to learn to be alone, to cope alone, to be less dependent on Dean - this was very much the same situation. Mandy had instilled in you time and time again that you would only truly succeed at something if you did it for yourself. Dean had reassured you time and time again that he didn’t need you to forgive Sam for his sake and you knew it would make no difference to Bobby if Sam was in his life or not as he barely knew him. You’d managed 5 years without Sam around just fine. There was the odd awkward conversation or question, usually at company events from people who didn’t know the truth, but you’d learned to deal with those just fine. 

As you smoothed down your dress, Dean walked into the closet. “Bobby’s down and Sally is on call. How are you feeling?” he checked, approaching you slowly. 

You nodded, checking yourself over in the mirror. “Fine, I’m just…anxious to get on with it,” you told him. Dean nodded in agreement. 

“I’ll be there the whole time and if anything gets bad I’ll tell them to leave,” he reassured you. 

“I just want it to be civil. If we can get to a place where I can at least pretend to like him around others, then I guess that would be good enough,” you decided. Dean tipped your chin up with a finger.

“You look stunning by the way,” he told you, kissing you softly. You blushed and smirked a little, feeling the nerves subside for just a moment at the way he looked at you. 

You’d just got downstairs when the doorbell sounded and Dean offered to answer it as you calmed yourself in the kitchen with a sip or two of wine. You’d told yourself to take it easy tonight, the whole point of this meeting was to be level headed and sober, but just one glass would take the edge off without lowering your inhibitions. You heard the muffled sounds of the three of them talking; Diane’s distinct accent cutting over everything else. The voices got louder as they approached the kitchen and you tried to seem as relaxed as possible as they came into view. 

“Hi, Y/N,” Diane beamed as bright and bubbly as she’d been the night before.

“Hi, nice to see you, thanks for coming,” you told them briskly. You glanced at Sam and offered him a weak smile before pretending to see to the food on the stove. Often for dinner parties you had a chef come and cook for you or you paid a restaurant to deliver you freshly cooked food for the night but you wanted the distraction tonight and the excuse to leave the room if you needed to. 

“They’ve brought wine,” Dean announced. 

“We weren’t sure what you drank so we brought a white and a red,” Diane explained. 

“That’s great, thank you,” you told them without turning around. 

“Would you like a glass?” Dean asked. 

“Sure, I’ll have the white and Sam will have a small glass of red.” You smirked a little to hear the way Diane dictated to Sam the way you were so used to Dean dictating to you. It was still strange to you that someone like _her_ dominated someone like Sam. 

“You’ve got a beautiful home,” Sam spoke up and you noted that his voice didn’t make your stomach tense as usual. 

“Thank you, we bought it about 6 years ago now, renovated it completely,” Dean explained. 

You decided it was best to turn to face your guests so you didn’t seem rude as you smiled at them and wiped your hands clean on a towel. 

“Why don’t we give you a tour?” you suggested. It was something to do that wasn’t standing around trying to make awkward conversation until dinner was ready. 

“That sounds great,” Diane agreed.

You walked through each room, Dean explaining how they used to be and how he’d changed them as you silently nodded next to him and sipped your wine. You kept the tour to downstairs and Dean wasn’t shy about explaining your sex room, though you didn’t go inside. No one except you and Dean went in that room. You blushed as he explained how he stored all the equipment and toys and how he’d had the bathroom changed to include a bath for aftercare. You could barely make eye contact. You remembered Sam was always so squeamish about those kinds of things and Diane was a stranger to you so it seemed weird that Dean was being so open and honest. But Sam seemed genuinely impressed and Diane was asking a million questions. It had broken the ice somewhat because the conversation naturally flowed into BDSM and how Sam and Diane met as you returned to the kitchen and sat in the sitting area with your drinks. 

“It was kind of by accident actually, as you both know I wasn’t interested in the lifestyle. I was going to therapy and my therapist at the time was talking about ways to control my _passion_ as he called it. I was quite reluctant to start dating again because I didn’t want to slip and I didn’t want to hurt anyone else,” Sam explained calmly. “But I happened to meet Di at a bar one night and we hit it off.”

“I didn’t tell him that I was a domme at first. A lot of men freak out because they are always so _alpha_ and Sam seemed like he’d be the same,” Diane interjected. 

Sam scoffed at her comment. “It didn’t take you long to realise you were wrong,” he smirked. 

“Oh I knew within 15 minutes of talking to him he was a submissive,” she boasted.

“You knew before me,” Sam laughed. You couldn’t help but chuckle, Dean too. 

“I always had a feeling,” Dean spoke up, shrugging slightly. 

“Thanks for telling me,” Sam smirked, teasingly. 

“Hey, the second I ever mentioned anything to do with sex you would freak out,” Dean defended, holding his hands up. 

“It took us a while to really open up to each other, but I quickly realised our relationship was helping me in ways I didn’t think it could,” Sam continued to explain.

“It’s always been about control for you and I think me taking that away and giving it back to you in a structured manner has been the biggest help,” Diane said, looking at Sam who nodded in agreement. You watched the way the two of them looked at each other for a moment and felt genuinely happy for them. Sam had found someone who could manage him, who didn’t see his flaws as flaws but something they could help with. It was nice to see just how much Diane had changed him for the better. You were pleased to see the person he’d become but the very same thought made you angry. He didn’t deserve that happiness. He wasn’t allowed to change into a better person. You were still so damn angry when you thought about the night he hurt you. You wanted to get even, you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. 

You’d never been an aggressive person and you’d never wanted to hurt someone before. When you remembered that one time you’d tried to dominate Dean and left scratch marks all over his body, the thought made you feel a little sick. But the idea of hurting Sam that way satisfied a deep rooted, sadistic part of you that wanted nothing more than revenge. You wondered if you could get past that, if that was all that was in the way of you and Sam being able to be civil again. You rose to your feet and excused yourself, claiming you needed to check on the meat as dinner was almost ready. Dean took the hint and offered them to follow him to the dining room. 

He returned to the kitchen after a couple of moments.

“Are you okay?” he checked as you dressed the starter plates with salad.

“I’m fine,” you sighed, “he has changed and he’s really nice now and happy,” you noted. 

“Yeah he is,” Dean agreed, “this is the Sam I used to know before Jess, before everything… well minus the submission,” he smirked. 

“Dean,” you sighed, dropping the salad dressing for a moment, “it makes me angry,” you confessed.

“I get it,” he nodded, tucking some hair behind your ear. “You have every right to still be angry, we know that. If it helps I don’t think Sam expects you to be his friend all of a sudden, we all know that if and only _if_ you decide to forgive him it’ll be a long process.” You nodded as he leaned forward and kissed your forehead. “Do you need any help?” he asked softly. 

“No, go and entertain our guests, I’ll be fine,” you smiled softly. 

When you entered the dining table with the starters you noted how Dean and Sam were laughing together, telling Diane about a story from their childhood. You were torn between finding it nice to see them happy like that and annoyed at Dean for being so relaxed with the person who hurt you. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen them that way together even when you first met. Dean looked up to see you and cleared his throat.

“Baby girl, this looks delicious,” he told you with a broad smile as you served the dishes and sat in front of your own plate. The meal was quiet with gentle conversation now and then, but luckily as you were eating there was an excuse not to talk very much. By the time you were ready for dessert, Diane rose to her feet to offer her help in the kitchen. You reluctantly agreed. 

“The food has been gorgeous, Y/N, thank you,” she told you politely. 

“You’re welcome.” You opened the fridge to get out the mousse you’d made earlier that day. 

“I hope we haven’t gotten off on the wrong foot or anything,” she started. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m just a bit… reserved around people I don’t know,” you explained. 

“Of course,” she nodded. “Thank you for giving Sam the chance, Y/N. Even if you don’t forgive him, of course that’s up to you if you do or not, it’s nice that you are willing to try,” she told you as you grabbed the dessert glasses and a large serving spoon. You realised she was fishing for a hint as to whether or not you were going to forgive him or not and sighed. 

“Look, Diane,” you started, dropping the spoon into the large bowl. “I’m happy for Sam, I’m glad he’s got his issues under control and I’m glad that he’s found you because you both look very happy.” She smiled softly. “But,” you continued, “I can’t deny I’m still incredibly angry at what he did.” 

Diane nodded her understanding. “Just like Sam’s using BDSM to manage his need for control have you considered using it to manage your anger?” she asked. You looked at her for a moment, deciding honesty was the best policy.

“Yes, but I can’t… be like that with Dean. He’s my dominant and I don’t want to hurt him, besides, he doesn’t like it either,” you explained. 

“I understand,” she confirmed. “So you need another submissive, someone who will take the pain. If you dominated them, with the right training and with someone like Dean watching you, of course,” she offered. You frowned at her suggestion, hadn’t ever thought of that before. 

“I guess, maybe,” you shrugged. “But I don’t know how it would work if it wasn’t Sam… no offence.” Diane pouted her red lips before nodding her head. She reached out and gently placed her small hand on your shoulder. 

“I’ll send Dean in to help,” she told you quietly. She turned around and left. Had you upset her by practically telling her you wanted to hurt Sam? Could she really blame you?

Once Dean had helped you dish up dessert you returned to the dining room, Sam and Diane’s conversation stopping as you approached. You all sat down and ate, a silence that wasn’t quite as comfortable as before lingered around you all. You didn’t mean to make things so icy when they’d been surprisingly okay most of the night. Diane cleared her throat once you’d all just about finished eating. 

“Me and Sam have a proposition for you and by all means take your time to think this over and everyone needs to be on board for this,” she started. Dean’s eyebrows raised as he waited for her to continue. “Y/N was telling me that she still has some unresolved anger towards Sam, that she wants to hurt him and well… what if, Dean, the two of us monitored a session between Y/N and Sam where she can express her anger and hurt him in a healthy controlled way?” 


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: mentions of dom!reader, sub!Sam, angst, mentions of unsafe BDSM, tension, mentions of whipping, masochism, sadism, arousal, very light public smut

Diane had given the proposition so casually she might as well have asked if you wanted to go to their house for dinner next. Your eyes shot to Sam first who didn’t at all seem thrown off by the suggestion, telling you they must’ve discussed this idea whilst you and Dean sorted dessert. Your eyes moved to Dean next to judge his reaction. 

“I think that sounds like an irresponsible idea,” he told Diane, aggravation in his tone. “There is no way to _express anger in a healthy and controlled way_ within BDSM and if you were a sensible domme you’d know that.”

“It wouldn’t be irresponsible if we give Y/N the basic training and we are both there watching closely. You were a novice at one point Dean, you had to have dominated someone for the first time at some stage. This is no different.”

“It is different. There are emotions there, strong emotions. Besides, Y/N doesn’t have any interest in dominating anyone, particularly Sam,” Dean shot out. You placed a hand on his thigh to calm him down. You’d not yet processed how you felt about the proposition, what you actually wanted. 

“Y/N, what do you think?” Diane asked, looking at you. You swallowed hard, all eyes on you as you cleared your throat.

“I think it’s getting late,” you muttered, placing your napkin on the table next to your empty dessert glass. 

“If you think it’ll help,” Sam spoke up, “then let’s do it. I want to help make this better, no matter what.” You noticed Dean clenching his jaw out of the corner of your eye as you stood quickly. 

“Thank you for coming over,” you said flatly, hoping they’d get the hint. Both of them rose to their feet.

“Thank you for dinner, it was lovely,” Diane told you softly. You left the room, showing them to the door and as Sam helped Diane into her coat she looked at you again. “Just think about it,” she said quietly. You didn’t reply, opening the door and waiting for them to leave. 

As soon as they stepped outside you closed the door behind them and huffed out a large breath. Dean slowly came out of the dining room, his tie undone over his shoulders as he scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Can you believe that?!” You scoffed, shaking your head. “Me dominating Sam? For anger management?” You laughed ironically, hardly able to believe what she’d said. Dean sucked his lips into his mouth for a moment and leaned against the banister. He was quiet, was he considering this? You stopped and thought about it yourself. It would feel good to hurt Sam, to get revenge and to have domination as an excuse seemed perfect. It wouldn’t be a bad thing then. And he’d enjoy it, right? So maybe this was a win win for everyone. “I mean…I’m not a dom, right?” you asked. “But I don’t know…the idea does seem good…” you shrugged.

“Good?” Dean scoffed, “it seems awful. You really want to dominate Sam?” 

Your mouth snapped shut for a moment. Maybe he was upset that you were so eager to do something like that with his brother. Afterall, there were feelings between you once upon a time. 

“Right, but not in that way. I mean, it wouldn’t be sexual, it would be…just for helping my anger,” you defended.

“Exactly, Y/N, I taught you better than that. Pain and control like that should always be sexual. If it’s not sexual it’s abuse. It’s about sexual gratification and pleasure not revenge.” You sighed heavily, rolling your eyes. 

“So? This is Sam we’re talking about, it’s not like he doesn’t deserve it after everything he put me through.”

“That is exactly why this isn’t happening, Y/N. You are better than that, don’t be as bad as him.” 

You crossed your arms, annoyed. You felt like he was completely disregarding your feelings.

“So that’s it? You don’t care what I think?” you asked bitterly. 

“No, I don’t. Besides the fact you are my wife and we’re talking about you being in a compromising position with my brother but I am your dominant and your safety is my responsibility. No decent dom would ever agree to that, Diane should never have been suggested it.”

“I’d be safe, I’d be the one in control,” you argued. 

“It’s not happening, Y/N, end of the discussion,” Dean shouted. 

You opened your mouth to argue but decided against it so you shut it again. “Look, I can see where she’s coming from. In theory it might help you,” he sighed. “If you saw Sam that vulnerable, if you were the one in charge of him, able to hurt him in a controlled way…” he trailed off and shrugged, “you’d be taking back the control you lost before… in theory it could work,” he concluded. You swallowed hard and frowned for a moment. “But you’re too emotionally invested in your revenge against Sam.” You nodded your understanding, defeated. “But-” he went on, pushing off the banister and walking until he was in front of you, grabbing your hands, “-the theory could be applied to you dominating someone else, someone you don’t have bad feelings for… if that was something you wanted to explore.” You frowned for a moment. Was he suggesting you got yourself your own submissive? His green eyes were wide and soft. How could you even consider this? It was ridiculous. Not only were you in no way dominant but you could never engage in anything like that if it wasn’t with Dean. 

“I’m done talking about this,” you snapped as you let Dean’s hands go. You stormed past him to the stairs and started to climb them. You just wanted to go to sleep and pretend the entire night never happened. 

-

Nothing else was brought up about Sam and Diane’s proposal over the next week and you were almost able to completely forget about it. Dean had been very adamant it was a no regarding Sam, but had put the idea out there about you finding someone else to dominate. But the only reason you’d ever entertain dominating anyone was Sam and for revenge, something Dean had made abundantly clear wasn’t a good idea. A rehearsal dinner two weeks before the wedding found you once again back at John’s house, trying to avoid Sam and Diane whilst making it seem like you were just very interested in talking to other guests. John must have heard about you inviting Sam and Diane to dinner because this time they weren’t seated further down the table - in fact they were directly opposite you either side of John and Lilly. You’d tried to avoid eye contact throughout most of the meal but couldn’t help stealing a glimpse at them both when they weren’t looking. 

The images started out as you trying to imagine what it looked like; Sam kneeling at Diane’s feet and her dominating him. Was it very much the same as how Dean dominated you or was it different when the female was in charge? You wondered what his limits were, did he have specific kinks? Remembering back to the times you’d had sex with him, you remembered how he took a backseat which had never been a good thing for you, how awkward he was when he tried to give you what you wanted. He’d never even seemed interested in anything remotely kinky not even if he was on the receiving end. Had Diane been the one to change that or had he always been interested just afraid to admit it? It must’ve been hard for him. Despite growing up in a family that was so open about BDSM Dean had gone on to be a dominant like his father and the only submissives they’d ever come across were probably female. Maybe Sam felt like he was less of a man as a submissive, maybe he thought he’d be letting them down. 

Your thoughts returned to images of Diane and Sam together, despite how inappropriate you knew it was. Her hand barely seemed large enough to wrap around his throat, you couldn’t imagine her overpowering him or being able to hurt him without the help of restraints and toys. You could imagine her pulling his belt through the loops. You could imagine him suspended from the ceiling by his hands as she used his own belt to whip him. Your jaw automatically clenched as you heard the familiar sound of leather snapping against skin fill your ears, you could imagine the whimpers of pain you could bleed from him, the marks you could leave on his skin. 

“Baby?” Dean’s voice came into focus snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah?” you asked mindlessly. 

“You okay? You seem tense,” he whispered, his hand gripping your leg under the table. 

“I’m fine,” you replied softly, eyes glancing around to see if anyone else had noticed but they hadn’t. You slowly reached under the table and held Dean’s hand, discreetly inching it up your leg further and further, slipping his fingers under the hem of your skirt. Dean looked across at you when he realised what you were up to and the tiniest of smirks graced his lips. 

“This wonderfully engaging meal isn’t boring you, is it?” he whispered, leaning in to press his mouth to your ear. You chuckled, his hand now moving between your legs of his own accord. You opened your legs just a little to give him better access as you grabbed your wine and took a small sip, trying to seem casual. As Dean’s fingers brushed over your silk covered sex he leaned in again. “Wow baby girl, someone is wet, just what has your dirty little mind been thinking of, hm?” he purred. You smirked, biting your bottom lip but couldn’t help but look across at Sam, unable to deny that your sinful thoughts had been far more sadistic than you ever knew you were capable of.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: edging, light public smut, public fingering, public domination, hints of sub!Sam x dom!Diane, mentions of whipping with a belt, angry!reader, bratty!Reader, forceful blowjob, face slapping, rough, hair pulling, angst, argument, use of safe word, talk of open relationship, talk of unsafe BDSM

Your cheeks were burning from the heat that had spread over them as Dean once again slipped his hand from between your legs, leaving you on the brink of your orgasm yet again. You were fairly sure no one had noticed the little game you and Dean had started to entertain yourselves with. Your thighs were sticky with arousal, your panties absolutely ruined and you were about ready to ride Dean right there for everyone to see. Dean, as always in these situations, was the picture of calm and collected, chatting away casually to Ellen at his side as if his fingers weren’t glistening with your arousal. Fuck, he was good at this. The chatter got livelier as dessert came to an end and people got refills of their champagne, and Dean took the opportunity to lean in close to you, mouth to your ear so no one else could hear him. 

“Someone’s a little desperate, hm?” he taunted, “those panties are ruined I think you should take them off.” 

Biting your bottom lip you placed your napkin down beside your place, smoothing down your skirt and praying to god it wasn’t somehow obvious what you were hiding underneath it. You grabbed your purse and went to rise to your shaky feet but Dean’s hand on your thigh stopped you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked quietly. 

“To the bathroom,” you whimpered. A small smirk played on Dean’s plump lips and he scoffed a laugh. 

“Right here,” he commanded. Your eyes left him to glance around the busy table.  
“What?” you asked in disbelief. 

“Take them off right here,” he reiterated. You swallowed hard and glanced around once more, tucking yourself into the table further before subtly reaching up under your skirt to hook your fingers into your panties. You slowly inched them down your legs, a waiter approaching your side making you jump as he cleared away your empty dish. 

“Thank you,” you muttered, your cheeks even more heated than before.

  
  


Dean was watching you closely, no doubt making sure you were following through with his command. You hooked them over one heel then the other and bunched the wet material up in your palm before slowly sliding your hand across into Dean’s lap. Dean reached under the table to take them from you and far less subtly opened his jacket to tuck them into the inner pocket. Your eyes searched the guests for any sign anyone had noticed but you decided you were probably safe. Dean’s hand returned to between your legs, his fingers searching out your heat once more, your panties no longer a hindrance as he started to swirl the tips of his fingers over your bundle of nerves, bringing you close to that edge you’d been dancing on for over thirty minutes now. You were so close, unsure if you wanted to cum right there and then for everyone’s entertainment because you couldn’t handle another anticlimax or not. 

  
  


“Shall we move onto the drawing room?” John suggested once everyone was left without their dishes and only their drinks. There were a chorus of agreements around the table as people started to rise to their feet and Dean slipped his hand away again as he wiped his fingers on his napkin and stood up, offering you the same hand he’d been teasing you with all night as you felt the slight tackiness left behind from your arousal. You took it slowly and rose to your own unsteady feet, smoothing down your skirt and clearing your throat. Dean didn’t lead you out with the crowds but waited until you were fairly alone. 

“Upstairs, third door on the left,” he told you.

“What?” you questioned, confused. Dean looked around to make sure you were alone.

“Third door on the left, I want you to kneel at the end of the bed, naked.” 

You blushed a little.“Dean, we’re at a party,” you argued. 

Dean licked his lips, a serious look on his face. “Do as you’re told, Princess.”

  
  


You made your way down the hall and towards the stairs, hearing the buzz of the party in the next room as you tried to climb them as quietly as possible so no one saw you. As you counted the doors you stopped outside the third one and placed your hand on the door handle, looking up and down the corridor for a moment before quietly twisting it open. You were expecting the room to be empty so when you heard voices coming from inside, you froze. Through the small gap in the door you’d managed to create you could just about make out Diane - you’d recognise her red hair anywhere and quickly realised Sam was knelt at her feet, his shirt off. 

“Give me your belt,” she commanded, her voice somewhat different to normal, much like Dean’s dom voice was different too. You watched as Sam obediently unbuckled his belt, Diane’s outstretched hand waiting patiently as he pulled the leather through the loops and handed it to her slowly. “Good boy, you know why you’re being punished, don’t you?” she asked. 

“Yes, miss,” Sam nodded. 

  
  


You stepped back and silently closed the door again, not wanting to invade their privacy but you couldn’t help wondering why Diane was punishing Sam and you couldn’t get the image out of your head of him knelt at her feet like that. The way he looked at her was the way you looked at Dean. He was so completely and totally at her mercy. That big six foot something man with all his muscles was submitting to _her._ It made your head spin just thinking about it. You wondered how powerful it must make Diane feel, if she got off on the power trip. The sound of the leather slapping against what you assumed would be Sam’s skin drew your attention again, his soft whimpers accompanying them and you wanted nothing more than to open that door and watch. You wanted to see the look on his face, wanted to see her hurting him. It was wrong but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

  
  


“I told you to go inside and kneel naked at the end of the bed.” Dean’s voice broke your concentration as he approached. “Not only are you not inside but you aren’t naked or kneeling either,” he commented, stopping directly in front of you. “Are we really going to play it like this tonight, sweetheart? Because I don’t have to give you that orgasm you’ve been craving if I don’t want to.” 

You swallowed hard. Between your legs was more uncomfortable than ever as you could just about still hear Diane and Sam the other side of the door, but you weren’t concentrating hard enough to hear it as clearly anymore. 

“The room is… urm… _occupied,”_ you explained. Dean’s eyebrows raised as he too looked to the door.

“Okay then,” he nodded, gripping your elbow and leading you further down the hall. “This is a big house, there’s plenty of other guest rooms.” 

  
  


Dean swung the door to another room wide open, revealing an empty bedroom as he shoved you inside and kicked the door closed behind him. You bit your bottom lip as you looked at him hungrily and decided to be bold. Stepping forward, you shoved him back against the door and kissed him passionately, tugging on his tie to loosen it. You pressed your body hard against his in a feeble attempt to overpower him as you started to unbutton his shirt. Your lips pressed hard to his, tongue licking into his mouth eagerly as you captured his bottom lip between your teeth. Dean grunted and reached up to wrap his hand around your throat.

“What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?” he growled, eyes glaring at you. You bit down on the smirk that curled your lips as you chuckled. 

“Taking what I want.” You dared to continue to unbutton his shirt as you smoothed your hands over the skin underneath. 

Dean’s eyes glanced down to watch your actions before he laughed coldly. “I don’t fucking think so.” 

  
  


Using his grip on your throat he marched you backwards, shoving you down onto the bed as he tore his shirt from his body and pulled your ankles so you were crashing down flat onto your back. 

“Lie there and take what you’re given,” he growled. You giggled as you looked down your body at him and smirked at the way he glared down at you. You pulled yourself up to sit back on your elbows, refusing to give in to what he wanted. Dean’s jaw clenched as you decided to take it even further and reached forward to start undoing his slacks, looking up at him with a wicked grin. Dean grabbed your wrists and pulled them away. “Don’t be a fucking brat, Y/N,” he warned, his voice booming down at you in warning. You struggled against his grip and glared up at him in return; he wasn’t letting you get away with anything. You weren’t feeling particularly submissive - the ideas of Sam swimming around in your mind had started something inside you you couldn’t let go of. 

  
  


Dean was quick to let go of one wrist and thumb his pants open himself and release his throbbing erection. He gripped the base and guided it towards your mouth. Letting go of the other wrist he gripped the back of your hair and pulled your face closer. 

“Open,” he grunted. You refused, sealing your lips shut and looking up at him. One hard tug of your hair made you whimper. “I said fucking open.” You barely opened your mouth but it was enough for Dean to force his cock past your lips and to the back of your throat. You mewled, gagging around it as he immediately started fucking your throat. When he withdrew he tipped your head back and leaned down, his face now close to yours.

  
  


“What do you say?” he prompted, his green eyes dark with lust. You didn’t respond, knowing exactly what he wanted from you but unwilling to give it. Dean reached up to strike your cheek. “What do you say?” he repeated. You refused once more, making him grunt and force himself to the back of your throat again. As you spluttered around him he withdrew again and, like before, leaned down so his face was close to yours. “What do you say?” You shook your head, still refusing to speak. Another strike across your face made you whimper, your jaw clenching slightly. “Say it,” he growled. You held eye contact with him, not backing down until he stood to full height again and once more choked you on his length. “What do you say?” he shouted down at you, pulling his cock from between your lips yet again. Spit dribbled indignantly from your puffy lips to the tip of his erection and your eyes watered. 

  
  


“Fuck you,” you finally spoke up. Dean chuckled coldly and shook his head. 

“What’s the matter with you, hm?” he asked, tipping your head back further, his grip in your hair tightening. “You want to dominate _me_ , huh? You think you’re a big girl that could be in charge?” he smirked. You glared at him.

“I could dominate you if I wanted to,” you replied bitterly. Dean laughed again and shook his head. 

“No you couldn’t.” He stepped back, releasing your hair and looked down his body as he put himself away and redid his pants.  
“Why not? I could,” you argued, getting mad at the sight of him backing down. If he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted he could’ve at least given you _something._

“We’re not having this conversation, Y/N, you know I will never submit to you.” 

You only grit your teeth harder. “You said so yourself, it might help me! I just want to try it! ”

“Not with me you’re not, now drop it.” 

  
  


Standing up to your feet you glared at him. You didn’t want to make him do something he didn’t want to but it was also unfair of him to never want to be on the receiving end. All these ideas swam around your head you’d never had before. You’d never been interested in being the dominant one, but something inside you craved for it, just the once. And you didn’t want to hurt Dean but you suddenly had this overwhelming anger inside you that needed to be sated by something. Diane was right, you did need to hurt something, _someone_ to make this better and apparently Dean was your only option. 

“So I can’t dominate Sam but I can’t dominate you either? That’s not fair!” you complained.

  
  


Dean clenched his jaw. “It’s plenty fair.” 

“Why do I _always_ have to be your submissive?” 

“Because that’s the way it is, sweetheart! You knew that when you married me. I didn’t sign up to be a damn switch.”

“And I didn’t sign up for your brother to do what he did,” you yelled out. 

“And that’s not my fault and you shouldn’t take that out on me,” he countered. 

  
  


“I’m not I’m…” you stopped and grunted, getting more and more annoyed and growing more and more needy to let him give you _some_ control. “Just let me have this, just this once,” you pleaded, stepping forward and gripping his pants as you tried to undo them again, reaching inside to wrap your hand around his cock that was already softening. 

“No, Y/N,” Dean grunted. “I said no,” he repeated when you didn’t stop. “ _Globe_.” You’d never heard Dean say your safe word before and your instinctive reaction was to freeze, jumping back and breaking all contact with him. Your eyes widened as you stared at him. 

“Baby, I’m sorry,” you whispered. Dean’s chest was heaving as he stared at you. “I’m sorry, Dean,” you repeated. “I don’t know…I don’t know why I’m like this… why I want to… I’m sorry.” 

  
  


Dean sighed heavily and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him. 

“You have a right to be angry, Y/N, but you don’t have a right to take it out on me.” 

Tears came to your eyes as you nodded against his chest. “I know.” 

“Is that what you want? You want to dominate me?” he asked seriously. 

“Not you as such…” you trailed off and stepped out of his embrace as you crashed down onto the bed and sat with your hands in your lap. You started to pick at your nails, unable to look him in the eye. “I know you said it won’t be happening, but ever since Diane asked about me dominating Sam… I’ve been thinking about it,” you confessed. Dean slowly sat down next to you. 

“Okay,” he sighed.

“I want to hurt him Dean, I want to be the one that controls him, that has him begging _me_ ,” you admitted, tears flowing down your cheeks. “I’m sorry.” 

  
  


Dean’s arm came over your shoulder. “There is nothing to be sorry about. But you can’t go in guns blazing and just try to control someone. What you just did with me… that’s not how a dom would be,” Dean explained calmly. 

“I know,” you whispered, wiping your cheeks. 

“You can’t just decide to switch our roles around like that, not when we’ve never even talked about it.” You nodded silently, understanding his anger. “An angry dom isn’t a safe dom,” he told you sternly. You bit your lip and drew a deep breath. “Y/N, you know I am never going to let you dominate me, right?” he asked. You frowned.

“Why?” you pressed, the disappointment clear in your tone. 

“It’s not for me. If you seriously want this, and feel you need it, then we’ll have to discuss finding someone else.” 

  
  


Your head snapped to look at him as your eyes widened. “Seriously? You’d rather me fuck someone else than submit to me?” 

“Yes,” Dean replied simply. “Think of it as a hard limit.” 

You sighed heavily, knowing that Dean never pushed you about your hard limits so it would be unfair on you to ever push him about this. You licked your lips, dropping your defences a little. 

“If this is what you wanted then we could find someone and I could train you properly,” he continued, “but-” he added with a sigh, “I know you, Y/N. You’re not a dominant, this isn’t about sex or getting off. This is about revenge still and no matter who you dominate, it’s not going to help. You need to find a way to move past this.” 

  
  


“It would if it was Sam,” you countered. 

Dean’s body stiffened. “We’ve already talked about this.”

“No, Dean, we haven’t. You’ve dictated a decision and that’s that. It should be up to me and Sam, no one else. This is between me and him.”

“It’s between all four of us, Y/N. I am your husband and your dominant and I get to have a say in this,” he argued. 

You rose to your feet and turned around to face him. “Yes Dean, you get a _say,_ you don’t get a dictatorship.” Dean huffed and rubbed his hands over his face. 

“You still want to do this, even though you know I don’t want you to?” 

  
  


You were so fuelled with anger - the need for revenge so strong in the blood pumping hard around your veins you replied before you’d even thought about your words.

“Yes. I want to do this, with or without you. I want to be over it, I want to move on. Jesus, Dean it’s been six years already!” 

“I understand that. Y/N, but this isn’t the answer!”

“What is the answer, Dean?! More therapy? Us finding some random person for me to dominate? No, it won’t work like that. It has to be Sam.” 

“You’re going to do this with or without my blessing? Even if it means losing me?” Dean pressed. You didn’t answer, too afraid of the truth to admit it. But your silence was enough to tell Dean the truth. “You know what, Y/N? Fine, do it,” he grunted. “Do it!” he repeated, standing to his own feet. “And when this goes wrong, and it will, don’t come running to me because I have told you this isn’t a good idea.” 

  
  


Dean grabbed his shirt and tie and left the room before you could respond. You wondered if Dean only had an issue with it because it was Sam. And not because Sam was the man who had hurt you, but because he was his brother. Because he still cared about Sam and didn’t want him to get hurt. Was he actually putting Sam before you? 


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: angst, lying, mentions of sub!Sam, dom!Reader, dom!OFC, dom!Dean, talk of limits, mentions of past sexual assault, major angst surrounding sexual assault, talk of irresponsible BDSM, BDSM training, flogging, talk of whipping

For the sake of John and Lilly, you and Dean had put on brave faces when you returned to the party. You could distantly hear Dean laying the groundwork for needing to leave early as he dropped into conversation about Bobby being unwell earlier that day and you waited for the moment he decided you needed to go home. He was avoiding you, but you figured it was for the best. Both of you were still extremely angry with each other. You just couldn’t believe he wasn’t seeing it from your point of view. He’d already admitted that Diane’s proposal might help you, so what was the big deal? Okay, usually BDSM was about sex but this was different. Sam was okay with it, Sam _wanted_ to be hurt, he _liked it._ Surely that was enough to make this okay? And why couldn’t you get revenge this way? It was a win-win situation for everyone. It wouldn’t make you a bad person if Sam asked for it. And Diane seemed to think it was an okay idea; she was Sam’s domme, she knew him better than anyone else. 

Dean just had a stick up his ass because of who Sam was. You could feel the anger bubble in the base of your stomach at the very reminder that Dean had suggested you find someone else to dominate, some _stranger_ like that made it any better. Your hands were clenched into fists as your sides as you tried to seem calm and collected talking to Cas about the monthly turnover and how this was going to be the best year yet financially. You really didn’t care. You caught a glimpse of bright red hair floating past the doorway and excused yourself from the conversation with the blue eyed man as you followed Diane into the kitchen. She was grabbing a glass of water when she noticed you approaching.

  
  


“Y/N, hi,” she smiled warmly. “Are you okay? You looked stressed,” she noted, taking a sip of the water you’d wrongly assumed was for Sam. Her blue eyes looked at you expectantly over the glass.

“Yeah, urm…” you cleared your throat, looking around to make sure you were alone. “That thing you suggested,” you started. Diane dropped the glass and smirked a little. 

“Yeah,” she prompted. 

“I urm…” You looked down to your feet. “I want to do it,” you told her before you could change your mind. Dean had made you question yourself for a moment, but you knew this was what you needed, you knew this was what it took to move on and you’d waited so long to be free of these negative feelings you still held for Sam. “If you both still…” you trailed off, noticing Diane’s attention had been pulled elsewhere. 

  
  


You turned your head to see Sam entering the kitchen, his shirt back on now and he smiled warmly at you as he approached Diane and took the glass of water from her.

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you muttered, blushing violently. 

“Yes, we’re both still up for it,” Diane spoke up, bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand. You only blushed harder. 

“Are you sure?” you checked, looking at Sam mainly. 

Sam licked his lips slightly, glancing at Diane for a moment. “Yes, I want to make things right with you, Y/N, and if this is what it takes… Diane thinks it’ll help and I trust her,” he explained calmly. You nodded slightly. 

“Okay so when?” you asked next, looking between them. Diane and Sam shared a look for a moment.

“Whenever you and Dean think you’re ready, once he’s shown you the basics,” Diane nodded. 

  
  


The lie left your mouth before you could stop it, too eager to get it over and done with. “I’m ready, I know what I’m doing.” 

“You’ve dominated before?” she pressed. 

You shrugged, lying again, “yeah sure.” 

You could hear Dean’s voice in your mind, telling you you were making a big mistake, that this was irresponsible, but you weren’t letting anything take this away from you and anyway, Dean was sure as hell not going to train you. “I mean, you can show me as we go, anyway, right?” you added, “if we discuss the scene beforehand and safe words and all that.” You wanted to seem sensible, you wanted to seem like this wasn’t the snap decision it was. 

“Of course,” Diane nodded. “Okay, so when are you and Dean free next?” she asked. You swallowed hard and licked your lips. Telling them that Dean wasn’t on board wasn’t a good idea and Sam was unlikely to go through with it if he thought Dean wouldn’t want you doing this despite your relationship with his brother being none of his business. 

“Dean won’t be involved, he’s told me to do what I want.” _Technically,_ it was the truth, you supposed. 

  
  


Diane’s eyes squinted ever so slightly before she cleared her throat. “Alright, well we need to meet and discuss the scene first. We can do that tomorrow? At the manor, we’re staying there at the moment.” 

“Perfect, I’ll see you both tomorrow,” you organised, trying not to think about what you’d just agreed to, what you were going to be doing with your husband’s brother, the same man that hurt you 6 years ago. A bigger part of you than you cared to admit was excited as you left the kitchen and sought out your husband so you could go home. 

  
  


-

  
  


You stood nervously on the doorstep to the manor and waited for them to answer the door. You used to walk straight in, but it seemed strange when you knew it was only Sam and Diane inside, and you weren’t close enough to them to just walk in. You knew there was very little need to be nervous, it was only the meeting discussing the scene and laying down the rules. You knew you were mainly feeling on edge because you’d lied to Dean about where you were going. He’d told you to do this, he’d told you to do what you wanted, but you still didn’t want to talk to him about it, knowing it would only cause another argument. It’s not that you wanted to go behind his back, you wished he was on board with this, because you knew this was something you needed to do. For your own sanity. 

  
  


Diane answered the door with a smile. You’d only seen her in formal clothes up until now, always seeing her when you were at John’s formal events to do with the wedding or at your dinner, so seeing her in jeans and a plain sweatshirt threw you off. She seemed so normal, so much less _dominant_ dressed like that. You were instantly put at ease a little more as you stepped inside and let her lead you through to the living room. It seemed strange that she was leading you around what was once your home and even stranger that Sam hadn’t greeted you considering he’d grown up in the manor. Diane was simply a guest, but you didn’t say anything. She offered you a drink which you refused and as you entered the room, you saw Sam sitting on the couch. He rose to his feet to greet you, but thankfully he didn’t try to hug you or anything. Once you were sat down he took his place again and Diane sat next to him. 

  
  


There were a few seconds of silence before Diane cleared her throat and she spoke up. “I thought it was best if you had a physical copy of limits,” she explained, reaching down onto the coffee table where you saw a small pile of paper, a notepad and pen next to it. Treating this like a business transaction was oddly calming. It was taking away from the sexual aspect of it which you appreciated. You took the paper from her and looked down at the list, most of Sam’s _hard limits_ were very similar to yours but before you could look over his soft limits the sound of the front door opening drew your attention away from the list. 

  
  


Dean came walking through the door, heading into the very room you were sitting in as your heartbeat increased and your eyes widened. 

“Dean,” you choked out, unsure how you were going to explain this. His eyes glanced at you for a moment before he looked at Diane and Sam.

“Sorry I’m late, did you start already?” he asked, taking a seat beside you. You frowned for a moment, looking straight at him. What was he doing? How did he know you were here? Was he mad? He didn’t look mad, but he was also avoiding looking at you. 

“Urm, no I just gave Y/N the limits list,” Diane explained. Dean took the paper from you as he read through it, nodding all the while. You looked to see Sam blushing slightly, probably not feeling particularly comfortable with his brother knowing that kind of information about him. 

  
  


“Okay, so let’s talk rules,” Dean practically demanded as he lounged back on the couch. Diane glanced at Sam and then you before tucking some hair behind her ear and picking up her notepad and pen. 

“Okay, well, it’s only one scene so I was thinking that we don’t need to go over _everything.”_

“Why not?” Dean countered immediately. “Better to be safe than sorry, right? We want our subs to be safe don’t we?”

Diane swallowed hard. “No, you’re right,” she agreed quietly. 

“Well I have some rules I’d like to lay down,” Dean started, sitting forward again. 

  
  


-

  
  


After what felt like hours going over rules and how the scene between you was going to play out it seemed the meeting was finally drawing to a close. 

“So I guess all that’s left to discuss is when,” Diane spoke up. All this talking about it had made you anxious. You were eager to get it out of the way; you wanted to be over it all already. 

“Now,” you offered. 

Dean immediately shook his head in disagreement. “No way, everyone needs time to make sure that this is what everyone wants before we do something we might regret.” His tone was somewhat threatening and you got the message loud and clear, he was giving you one more chance to back out. 

“How about three days’ time?” Diane suggested after a moment of awkward silence.

“Fine,” Dean agreed, nodding. “Is that everything?” he checked, already rising to his feet. 

“If it’s not we have each other’s numbers,” Diane smiled. 

  
  


Dean was heading towards the front door before you could even say goodbye. You hurried after him and followed him out to the stone steps leading down to the driveway where both your cars were parked. He waited until you were a little way down the driveway, away from the house, to turn around and face you. 

“So you weren’t going to tell me, huh?” he barked. 

“Dean, you said… you told me to do it,” you argued weakly. Dean scoffed and shook his head, turning his back on you for a moment. “What are you doing here anyway? How did you find out?” you asked. 

“Turns out Diane isn’t quite as irresponsible as I thought, she called me this morning to ask if I wanted to discuss the scene with her before the meeting,” Dean told you. 

  
  


You drew a deep breath and looked down to your feet.

“When were you going to tell me? After you’d done it? When it was too late?” he pressed. 

“I didn’t want to lie to you, Dean, but I didn’t want to upset you. I know you don’t want me to do this but I have to,” you told him desperately. Dean shook his head, unable to look you in the eye. “I need to be over this, I need to move on and this is the only way, I know it is.” Tears welled in your eyes. Dean didn’t say anything, he kicked at stones with his boots as he paced in front of you. “Why did you come? Why did you stick out the meeting if you don’t want me to go through with it?” 

“Because you’re so hell bent on doing it with or without me and I want to keep you safe. Do you really think Diane is going to care about you? Sam is her sub, not you. She won’t care about you, she won’t be able to tell if you’re losing control, she won’t be able to tell when you’re reaching your limits. That’s on me because I’m your dom!” Dean pointed to himself, his voice rising in volume, the gruff of his tone cracking his voice now and then. “Doing this scene is fucking stupid but doing it without me is worse. So you’ve backed me into a corner. I’ve got to do this whether I like it or not.”

  
  


You were speechless. You hated that you’d made Dean feel like he had no choice, but he was right. It would be reckless to do it without him, and you couldn’t let it go. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him you’d walk away. 

“I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, Y/N, this is a terrible idea,” Dean continued. “What we talked about in there sounded like BDSM with all the fancy words and talking about safe words and all that shit, but it’s not. What we’re talking about is straight up torture. Sam’s not going to get off on it, you’re not going to get off on it, no one is. So, what’s the point?” 

  
  


“The point is maybe I’ll finally be able to hear my brother in law’s name without feeling like my chest is about to cave in on me. Maybe I’ll finally be able to see family photos from your childhood without seeing Sam’s face and feeling like the room has run out of oxygen. Just _maybe_ I’ll finally be able to step into that Manor and not feel your brother’s hand around my throat telling me I asked for it.” You choked on tears, swallowing hard. “Maybe I’ll finally regain some damn control.” It was Dean’s turn to fall quiet, his eyes were glazed over with tears as he looked away and sniffled. 

“Okay,” he finally whispered. “We’ll do this and I’ll train you, but I swear to god, Y/N, you are never putting me in this position again because if you do I’m leaving.” 

  
  


-

  
  


Despite his reservations, Dean hadn’t started anymore arguments about the scene with Sam and you assumed he’d said everything he’d needed to the day before; you certainly had. Things weren’t even particularly awkward or frosty between you, it’s like the air was finally cleared. The day had been busy with entertaining Bobby, swimming outside in the pool and letting him draw all over the patio with chalks. As soon as the sun started setting you were grateful for his bedtime, Sally taking over just as he fell asleep. 

  
  


You stepped back out into the garden where the air was balmy and the sky was a beautiful orange colour. Dean was lounging back looking out at the view with a bottle of beer. He glanced up at you as you approached and sighed. 

“Let’s go to the playroom,” he instructed. 

“Tonight?” you checked.

He got up and licked his lips. “Yeah, you need to learn don’t you?” 

You bit your lip, realising it wasn’t a visit to the playroom you were used to. “Yeah,” you agreed timidly, feeling the knots in your stomach. 

  
  


You followed Dean to the room and let him go ahead and turn all the lights on. He disappeared into the storage room, returning with a flogger. It was quiet as he set up the room and placed a chair in the open space, grabbing a large pillow to place on it. He grabbed a marker pen and started to draw lines on the pillow. 

“Okay, c’mere,” he ordered, waving you over to the pillow. “We’re gonna pretend this is a back. When you’re whipping or striking the back you want to avoid anything outside of these lines. Too low and you’ll strike the kidneys, too high and you’ll hit the neck which isn’t safe either. This middle section and the backs of the shoulders are the only safe places,” he explained, pointing to each part as he did so. You listened intently, nodding along. You wanted to hurt Sam, but you didn’t want to seriously harm him in any way. 

  
  


“When you strike with a flogger you want to aim for the shoulders. You’re going to hold the handle where it’s weighted and you want to lift your arm to the opposite shoulder and strike in a diagonal direction, then lift your arm again and strike the opposite way. So you’re essentially drawing an X across your body.” 

You realised, whilst listening to Dean speak that you’d never considered just how much he knew about BDSM. You’d always known he was experienced and knew what he was doing, and you definitely knew he was good at it, but hearing him explain things like this made you realise just how much thought went into everything he did. He didn’t just hit you any old way, there was a method behind everything. How did he even remember it all?

  
  


He handed you the flogger and you noticed it was surprisingly heavy. 

“Can you feel the weight in the handle?” he asked. You gripped it and realised you could. “Hold it there.” You did as you were told and Dean checked your grip and the position of your fingers. “Okay good, now I want you to strike the pillow. Remember what I said about hitting the shoulders and the X shape. You want to start off light. We’re warming up the skin and the muscles, you want to build the pain not go in straight away with something that he can’t tolerate,” Dean told you, gripping your hand to guide your swing. You struck the pillow and Dean instructed you to do it again. He readjusted your positioning and got you to repeat your actions a few more times. 

  
  


-

  
  


You were exhausted when Dean was finally done with training. You’d never appreciated how physically tiring dominating could be and you’d only been dominating a pillow. 

“Was it all okay?” you checked as Dean packed away equipment. 

“With practice,” he nodded in agreement. 

“It’s a lot to remember, I never realised how much goes into it,” you confessed. Dean coiled the rope around his hand before hanging it up on its hook. 

“I trained solidly for a whole year before I laid hands on someone as a dominant,” he told you. “This doesn’t happen overnight, anyone who thinks it does isn’t doing it right and shouldn’t be trusted.” He flickered the store cupboard light off and walked past you. You swallowed hard, wondering if it was a dig at you. 

  
  


He stopped at the doorway and sighed. “Are you coming to bed, baby?” he asked, his tone softer. Your eyes landed on the store cupboard again as you then looked at the pillow. 

“I think I should stay and practice some more,” you told him with a blush. 

“Tomorrow, sweetheart, you’re tired, we both are. C’mon,” he encouraged. You tried to catch up with him.

“Thank you Dean,” you smiled softly as he turned the rest of the lights out and locked up the room. You both walked across the path towards the main house again as Dean wrapped his arm around you and kissed your forehead. You just hoped you were good enough for your scene. 


	10. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: fluff, dom!reader, dom!OFC, dom!Dean, sub!Sam, bound, flogging, whipping with a belt, power trip, masochism, sadism, use of safe word, safe word being ignored, major angst

Your hands were shaking slightly as you went to step into the room, but a hand on the top of your arm pulled you back. 

“Y/N, are you sure this is what you want?” Dean pressed. His question didn’t seem threatening or forceful, as if he was trying to make you change your mind like all the other times he’d asked you - this time it was genuine. His green eyes searched your face as he waited for your answer.

“Yes,” you told him honestly, “I’m sorry that isn’t what you want to hear.” Dean sighed and nodded.

“Okay, then you remember everything I taught you?” he checked. You nodded. “X shape, aim for the shoulders, avoid the lower back.” 

“And you remember all the rules?”

“Yes.”

“And the safe words?” 

“Yes, Dean,” you nodded, eager to get on with it. 

“Okay,” he nodded in return, letting go of your arm. 

“Y/N,” he added before you could turn around. You waited quietly for him to continue. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, De,” you told him with a soft smile, stepping forward and kissing him, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You felt safe against his lips. You reluctantly stepped back and offered him a small smile. He returned it and you slowly turned around to walk into the room. It was fairly dark, but just light enough to be able to see what you were doing. Sam was kneeling in the middle of the room, topless but his jeans left on with his wrists bound in his lap just liked you’d planned. Diane stood in front of him, hands on her hips as she oozed dominance. Sam didn’t dare look up at you or Dean as you entered the room, his hair falling in his face a little as he kept his head bowed. You knew the position all too well. 

  
  


Diane moved away from Sam and towards you, her heels clicking along the wood floor as she approached. As it was agreed, she was fully dressed, as were you and Dean. She had opted for skin tight leather trousers and a tight black tank top tucked in with red heels to match her hair. You couldn’t deny she looked gorgeous. 

“He’s warmed up and all yours,” she smirked, handing over the red flogger in her hand. You nervously took it from her - it seemed heavier than the one you’d used to practice with - as you drew a deep breath and saw Diane make her way over to where Dean was standing. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his green eyes squinted slightly as he watched on and his face was emotionless. You fumbled to find the weight inside the handle, remembering to hold it exactly as Dean had taught you and rounded Sam so you were standing behind him. His broad tanned shoulders lay before your eyes, you’d forgotten how defined the muscles were in his back. He’d kept even more fit in the last five years since you last saw him. 

  
  


Your eyes flickered to Dean for barely a second, almost like you were awaiting confirmation, forgetting that you were supposed to be in charge. This was your moment to take back control, to take back the power Sam stole from you. You gripped the handle of the flogger tighter for a moment before remembering to relax your wrist and stepped the appropriate distance away as you raised your hand to your shoulder and brought it down, flicking your wrist the way Dean had taught you, aiming and striking Sam’s shoulder as the tails of the flogger licked across his back. The slap was soft and Sam barely moved as you raised your hand to the other shoulder and repeated your actions in the opposite direction. 

  
  


Your confidence grew with every strike as you hit him harder and harder until the snap of the leather tails against his skin were far louder, his tanned skin turning a pink colour. He was whimpering now, low, deep rumbling noises vibrating through his chest with each strike. You lowered your arm and reached up with your free hand to move the hair out of your face. Dropping the flogger to the ground you straightened up and moved around him to stand in front of him. You could feel the power oozing inside you, felt on top of the world as you towered over him. 

“Look at me,” you spoke up, your voice far more authoritative and commanding than you thought yourself to be capable of. Sam slowly raised his head, his hazel eyes falling on you, wide and somewhat fearful. You revelled in the feeling for a moment, the way he looked so vulnerable, so fragile like you could break him, make him cry if you wanted to. You were getting drunk on the power you had over him. 

  
  


You held out your palm with clear, firm instruction. “Give me your belt.” 

Sam struggled for a moment or two thanks to the bounds but managed to do as you’d asked, pulling the leather through the loops and slowly handing it over to you. You didn’t take your eyes off of him as you held the buckle in your palm and wrapped the excess of the belt around your hand. A smirk graced your lips as you turned on your heels and returned to stand behind him. You moved your head left to right, stretching your neck a little and taking another couple of deep breaths, relaxing your shoulders. Sam returned to hanging his head low, giving you the access to his shoulders you needed. His back was red, the skin a little angry, and you smirked harder when you thought about the fact you’d only just begun. 

  
  


_**Dean’s POV** _

  
  


Dean’s jaw clenched a little harder as he watched Y/N raise her hand, gripping the loose end of the belt like he’d shown her. She brought the belt down a little harder than he would’ve personally liked for a first strike and Sam flinched, whimpering at the pain, but he didn’t seem too uncomfortable. She struck him again and elicited the same reaction once more.

“Colour, Sam,” Diane barked at him. 

“Green,” he choked out. Dean watched Y/N closely, not needing to ask her her colour. He had gotten good at reading her over the years. She was enjoying herself for now. She struck Sam three or four more times, the snap of leather against his skin getting louder as she increased the strength with each hit. Sam was moaning now, not necessarily sexual, more in pain and Dean watched as Y/N clenched her jaw and struck him once more. 

  
  


“Y/N, relax,” Dean warned her, his dom voice booming out of him. He didn’t want to get involved but he could see her losing herself in the moment. Her eyes flickered to him for barely a second before she struck Sam again. She hit him harder still and Dean automatically moved forward as if to approach but Diane placed a hand on his arm.

“Sam can take it,” she told him quietly. Dean glanced at Diane to see her watching intently and decided to trust her judgement. The next strike elicited a grunt from Y/N’s own lips, telling Dean just how hard she was working to hit Sam like she was. But Sam’s moan of pain was louder as he hissed and recoiled slightly. The sounds of sobs left his body but he didn’t seem to be crying. 

  
  


It all happened too fast as Dean very quickly realised that the sobs weren’t coming from Sam at all. They were coming from Y/N. Sam was shouting in pain now. 

“Y/N, colour,” Dean demanded, but he was ignored. “Y/N, give me your colour now!” She struck him again and cried out, angrily. 

“Red red red,” Sam shouted out but Y/N hit him again. Dean glanced at Diane but she seemed frozen, not sure what to do. 

“This is what you wanted!” Y/N shouted down at him. Dean had never moved so quickly as he charged towards Y/N and gripped her wrist hard to stop her from striking Sam again. He pulled her away harshly, dragging her out of the room as she struggled against his grip. Dean took her to his old bedroom, closing the door behind them as he finally stopped in front of Y/N, bending at the knee slightly to get level with her face. 

  
  


“What the hell were you thinking?!” he snapped, reaching for the belt still coiled around her hand as he pulled it away and threw it to the floor. “He used the safe word!”

“He didn’t listen to mine!” she yelled. 

“Was that your plan all along?” Dean replied just as loudly. Y/N’s eyes widened as tears started to stream effortlessly down her face. 

“What? No…” she shook her head adamantly and sniffled hard. Her whole body seemed to drain of anger as she looked at Dean, bringing her hands to her face and covered her mouth. “What did I do?” she spluttered out, sobbing hard. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean it.” She fell against his chest and Dean held her tightly in an instant. He just _knew_ this would happen. He knew she’d take it too far, get carried away in the moment and let her emotions get the better of her. 

  
  


He knew he couldn’t trust Diane to have complete control of the situation and he was so glad he’d decided to be there for Y/N or he dread to think what could’ve happened, how much worse it could’ve gotten had he not been there to stop it. Not only was this going to affect Sam, but Y/N was going to hate herself for what she had done. If Dean could’ve punched himself in the face he would’ve. He should’ve stopped this from happening, he shouldn’t have given in to her. Why did she have to be so damn stubborn? He was angry, his whole body shaking as he continued to hold Y/N and let her sob against him. He was angry at Y/N for pushing for this, at Diane for suggesting it in the first place and at Sam for hurting Y/N enough to drive her to this. But more importantly, he was angry at himself for not being stronger, for letting this happen at all. He didn’t deserve to be a dominant, he’d gone against every good BDSM instinct he had. He’d lost control of Y/N, of the situation. 

  
  


“You were right, Dean, I’m so sorry,” Y/N sobbed, holding him tighter, clinging to his shirt like he might go somewhere. 

Dean kissed her forehead and tried to soothe her. He didn’t want to say _I told you so_ but he couldn’t tell her she was wrong either. “It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s going to be okay.” 

“It’s never going to be okay. What I did…I didn’t stop. I’m as bad as him.” 

Dean drew a deep breath and kissed the top of her head again. “No, baby, don’t say that.”

“I’m a terrible person, I let my emotions get the better of me, I hurt him,” she continued. “You must hate me, I’m sorry. I understand if you want to leave me.” Dean held her tighter.

“No, baby, I don’t want to leave you and I could never hate you. I love you.” This only made Y/N cry harder against his chest, soaking the cotton of his t-shirt. “It’s going to be okay,” he told her gently, stroking her back. “It’s going to be okay.”

  
  


-

  
  


It took over an hour for Y/N to calm down. They were laying on his old bed, Y/N’s head on his chest and when she raised it to look at him, he could see her eyes were red and puffy. 

“I need to see him, I need to say I’m sorry,” she whispered. Dean drew a breath. 

“He might not want to see you right now,” Dean reasoned. 

“I have to Dean, I have to tell him I’m sorry, I have to tell him,” she begged. Dean sat up slowly. 

“Baby, think about when it happened to you. Did you want to see Sam? Did you want to hear his apology?” Dean asked softly. Y/N started to cry again, her makeup long gone, now in black smudges over her cheeks. He reached up and tucked some hair behind her ear.

“Give him time, okay?” He asked gently. 

She nodded ever so slightly. “Will you at least check he’s okay?” 

Dean nodded in agreement. “Okay baby, stay here,” he ordered softly. 

  
  


He got up and slowly made his way down the hall to the room they’d done the scene in but it was empty. Diane came out of Sam’s bedroom just at the right time as she softly closed the door behind her. 

“Dean,” she sighed quietly. Dean felt angry again at the very sight of her. 

“I hope you realise how reckless you’ve been,” he couldn’t help but spit out. “How can you call yourself a dom when you’d put your sub in that position? I tried telling you this was a bad idea!” he hissed. Her blue eyes filled with tears and she nodded.

“You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking, I didn’t realise how bad it was between them. I never thought… I don’t deserve to be his dominant,” she whispered. Dean sighed, realising he’d been a little too hard on her. 

  
  


“You’re good for him, you’ve helped him a lot,” Dean admitted.

“Have I?” she pressed, “I did this to him, this is on me. When he used his safe word in there I froze, that shouldn’t be my reaction!” 

“That was different. Freezing is exactly what you would do if Sam was to use the word on you, but it wasn’t you it was Y/N,” Dean reasoned. “What you did was stupid, but people make mistakes. Hell, I let it go ahead, that’s on me too.” Diane looked at him, wide eyed for a moment before silently nodding in agreement. “We just don’t make the same mistake twice. Stick to what we know.” Diane drew a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest as she rubbed them to keep warm. “How is he?” Dean asked next. Diane glanced to the closed door and looked down to her feet. 

“He’s okay, he’s a little physically scarred but he’ll be fine. Mentally he’s okay. He understands what she did and why she did it. He said he deserved it,” she sighed. Dean didn’t want to say he agreed with him, so he stayed quiet. “I saw to his welts and he’s sleeping it off.” 

“Well maybe this happened for a reason,” Dean suggested, shrugging slightly. “Maybe this is what everyone needed to move forward.” 


	11. Chapter Ten (FIN)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: talk of past sexual assault, talk of safe word being ignored, angst, guilt, hear to heart, fluff

It had been ten days since you’d seen Sam or Diane. You’d tried to get Dean to arrange a meeting a few times so you could apologise to Sam face to face for what you’d done but Sam refused and Dean had insisted you gave it more time. You could understand. Even when Sam approached you nine months later you weren’t ready to hear his apology. It made you sick to your stomach comparing what you did with Sam to what he did to you. 

  
  


The truth hurts because you were no better than Sam after what you’d done. Not even Dean had been quick to tell you otherwise. You’d ignored his safe word. Even as a submissive you knew just how important safe words were and the responsibility a dom had to respect them. But that moment that you were standing there, belt in your hand watching his skin turn from pink to red, seeing the lines you were creating across his back, every ounce of anger you’d ever felt for him came out. You saw red and your emotions swallowed you. Sam’s safe word was a distant echo in the back of your mind as you continued to chase the release of emotions you’d kept inside all those years. 

It wasn’t until you were looking into green eyes, seeing the look on Dean’s face that you truly realised what you’d done. Was this how it had been for Sam? Had he gotten so wrapped up in his jealousy that he let it consume him until he wasn’t thinking at all? What happened when you were behind the wheel was all so fast, you lost control and crashed in seconds, but with Sam he was swerving for a while before he crashed. Did that make you a better person than him? 

  
  


So many thoughts swam around your head and you were far too ashamed to talk to anyone about what had happened, even Dean who had been nothing but supportive and patient with you. Despite his previous threat of not being there when it inevitably went wrong, Dean had been by your side every moment since that day. 

  
  


But for one day you needed to forget about it, plaster on the fake smile and act like everything was perfect. It’s what John would want and what he and Lilly deserved. No one deserved their wedding day ruined by family drama. Lord knows you, Dean and Sam had caused enough drama at family events as it was. 

  
  


You were helping Bobby into his little page boy outfit and gushing over how smart he looked to keep yourself occupied. As per usual, Bobby didn’t want to wear a suit or bowtie but the moment he saw his father in one, he resigned, claiming he was _just like Daddy._

“Oh no, baby, you’re far more handsome than Daddy,” you smirked, kissing his forehead.  
“Hey now,” Dean warned playfully as he straightened up his own bowtie. You chuckled softly at the wink he flashed you that Sally no doubt noticed. 

  
  


Sally offered to take Bobby to run around the grounds and blow off some steam whilst you got ready which you were grateful for. As soon as they had gone your smile faltered and you made your way to the zipped up dress hanging on the closet door. 

“You’re in higher spirits today,” Dean commented. 

“It’s a wedding, Dean, meant to be a happy day,” you told him quietly, unzipping the bag to reveal the deep wine coloured dress you’d picked out. Dean nodded in agreement silently and grabbed his jacket as he smoothed down the arms.

“I’m gonna find Dad, make sure he doesn’t need me for anything, I’ll be back before it’s time to head down,” he told you. 

“Okay,” you agreed, letting him kiss your forehead so he didn’t ruin your makeup. 

  
  


Once he’d left you let out a deep breath, no longer having anyone to fake it for. You were alone with your thoughts, but couldn’t afford to cry. There was no time, besides, your make up had not long been done and the artist was probably far too busy with Lilly by now. You took your dress off the hanger and proceeded to dress into it, realising you needed Dean to help you zip the back. You tried to get it as high as possible by yourself before giving up. He could just do it when he got back. A knock on the door sounded and you called for them to come in without looking at who it was. 

“Oh, is urm…” 

You turned around, eyes wide once you realised who it was. “Sam,” you whispered out. 

Like most times you’d bumped into Sam in the last five years, knots started twisting in your stomach but this time it wasn’t because of dread, it was because of guilt. 

  
  


He looked away quickly, scratching the back of his neck as he cleared his throat. 

“I’m looking for Dean.”

“You just missed him, he went to see John,” you told him. Sam nodded his understanding and turned to leave. But you couldn’t let him go without saying what you needed to. You were going to be around each other all day, having to pretend everything was fine. You needed to get this off of your chest.

“Sam wait…” you called out. “I am so sorry about what happened. I don’t have a good enough excuse, I was angry but that doesn’t even matter. That’s no justification for what I did. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” 

Sam drew a deep breath and finally looked up at you. “The whole thing shouldn’t have happened,” he reasoned. 

“It shouldn’t have, you’re right,” you agreed. “I really hope that one day you can forgive me. But I understand if you can’t… trust me I can.” 

  
  


Sam sighed and looked over his shoulder before stepping into the room and closing the door. It took you by surprise he was choosing to be alone with you. 

“Y/N, the reason I’ve been avoiding you isn’t because I can’t forgive you, or I hate you for what you did,” Sam started. “It’s because I can’t forgive myself. What I did to you was way worse and being on the receiving end of that, feeling just a tenth of what I made you feel… how am I supposed to live with myself after what I did to you?” he choked out. Your eyes widened as you looked up at his face to see the pure hurt there. “Everytime I see you I think about what _I_ did, not what _you_ did. You don’t need to apologise to me, I should still be apologising to you.” You were speechless, hardly able to believe what he was saying. All this time you were beating yourself up about it, but Sam hadn’t even thought about it, all he’d thought about was you and your feelings.

  
  


“I forgive you, Sam,” you told him honestly. “What you did wasn’t right and maybe I’ll always have some problems because of it but you are not that person anymore and after what I did to you… I’d say we’re pretty even,” you concluded. 

“We’re not, Y/N, far from it,” Sam reasoned. 

“I don’t care, I want to be over this, I want to move past it. So allow me to forgive you, allow me work on you being back in our lives. Don’t disappear back to Australia straight away. Why don’t you stick around a little longer? Dean misses you, he wants you back even if he won’t admit it. So reconnect with him, get to know your nephew,” you encouraged. 

“Y/N, you can’t be serious,” Sam told you, shaking his head. “You can’t be okay with this, I don’t want to cause you any more pain,” he stressed. 

“You won’t be, Sam. Just think about it,” you suggested. 

Sam drew a breath and nodded. “Okay.”

  
  


You smiled softly and turned around to grab your shoes, Dean was sure to be back any minute to collect you. 

“Here, let me,” Sam offered, stepping forward and reaching for your zip. HIs fingertips brushed along your back but you didn’t flinch or feel sick at the sensation. 

“Thanks,” you whispered. He stepped back and offered you a warm smile. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Truly.” You nodded and he looked around. “I should probably find Dad, see you later.” You watched him leave and drew a deep breath. Something about it all felt final, it felt over and a genuine smile came to your face for the first time in a while. 

  
  


-

  
  


The day had gone far better than you’d expected thanks to your private moment with Sam. You were eager and excited to tell Dean about your big step in your recovery but needed to find the right time and place. It wasn’t until Sally had taken Bobby home and the evening was well and truly underway that you found a moment alone with your husband, walking the grounds with your heels in your one hand and Dean’s hand in the other. 

“You’ve seemed different today,” he noted, “I know you’ve been putting on a brave face but something’s changed.” 

“Well…” you started, biting your bottom lip, “Sam came to the room whilst you were gone this morning and we ended up talking.” Dean stopped walking to look at you. You led him to a nearby bench and sat down. 

“What happened?” he pressed. You held Dean’s hand in your lap and started to play with his fingers, a small smile coming to your face. 

“I forgave him, Dean,” you told him happily. “And I meant it,” you added with a smile. “I feel so different, I feel free and just… at peace.” 

  
Dean frowned for a moment as he took in the information. “What changed?”

“Sam didn’t hate me for what I did, he didn’t even want me to apologise, he said it made him realise how much he’d hurt me and he seemed so genuinely torn up about it. And you said yourself he’s changed and I can see that. I just want to be over all this, I want to move on. I know you miss him and I know Bobby would love to know him.”

“Sweetheart, wait,” Dean stopped you. “Don’t do this for me or Bobby. Okay? Bobby doesn’t know Sam, he doesn’t know what he’s missing. And me?” he scoffed. “Baby, I chose you on that veranda five years ago and I have chosen you every day since and I will continue to do so for the rest of my life. Don’t ever doubt that.” You smiled warmly and squeezed his hand.  
“I don’t De, I love you so much.” You leaned forward and kissed him softly. “I didn’t forgive Sam for you or Bobby. I forgave Sam for me, because I’m ready to move on. I’m ready to be free.” 

##  **  
****THE END**


End file.
